At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
