At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern 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 firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad 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, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
