This time a year ago, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad 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. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which 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 was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
