Around this period last year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, 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 know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
