Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star 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 directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
