At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. 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 evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
