Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, 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 know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, found, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
