This time the previous year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, 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. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party 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 Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – 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. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly 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. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
