At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, 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 that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully 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 commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
