At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then 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 approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, and so on. 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 now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
