This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. 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 feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, 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.
