At this point the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. 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, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, 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. I mean, 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 cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
