At this point the previous year, I found myself 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. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time 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 fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
