Around this period last year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me 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, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
