At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what 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, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. 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, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
