Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
