At this point last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but 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. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, 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, yet I'm personally involved – 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 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, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
