This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes 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, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable 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. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
