At this point a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect 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. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
