This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party 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, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, 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. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
