Around this period the previous year, I was filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
