Around this period a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
