At this point last year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.