This time last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response from the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
