At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old 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 wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, 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 unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
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, reacquired, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
