Around this period a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
