Around this period last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
