Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet 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. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … 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. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
