This time a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. 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 in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, found, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
