At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. 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 somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me 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. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
