At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
