This time a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, 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 while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, 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 – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
