This time the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room 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 his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. 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 instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
