At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
