Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
