At this point last year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a 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 others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, 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, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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. 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 fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
