Around this period a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party 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 topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
