This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
