This time last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime 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 pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. 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'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
