At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession 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, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, 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 return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle 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 fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
