Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, 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. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses 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 when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
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, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
