At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
