At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – 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 firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
