This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief 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's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
