Around this period a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work 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'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for 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 adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
