Around this period a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
