At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs 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, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. 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 prepared to combat.
