Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. 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 the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, 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 grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
