Around this period a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, 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 the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, 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, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
