This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, 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 a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
