This time the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, 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 know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
