This time a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
