Around this period last year, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me 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. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
