This time the previous year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, 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, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
