Around this period the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, 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 very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
