At this point last year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees 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 question for another day.
The Response from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, 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.
