At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. 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, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
