Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. 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. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy 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. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
