At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate 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 – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
