Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned 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. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star 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 use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
