🔗 Share this article

This time the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, 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, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.

The Response of the Singers

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room 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 director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Handling Nasal Congestion

When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine

Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.

My Experience

I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.