At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
