At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, 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 know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
