Around this period the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? 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 did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, 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 lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. 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. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
