This time a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, 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. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
