At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a 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, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
