At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
