This time last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket 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.
