At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. 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, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – 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.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
