At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
