This time last year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. 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 colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses 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 seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
