Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – 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 know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, 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 clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
