At this point a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, 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. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, 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 into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
