At this point last year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th 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 it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. 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, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, 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 felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
