Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
