At this point the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
