At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked 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 until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. 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 am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get 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 must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
