Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, 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 questioned 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, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
