At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, 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, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
