Around this period the previous year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, 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, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs 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. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
