Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
