At this point last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
