This time a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room 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 producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
