Around this period last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – 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 firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, 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, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
