At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, 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 mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
