Around this period last year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room 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 to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
