Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned 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. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me 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. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time 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, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
