Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room 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. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
