At this point a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. 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 had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
