At this point a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, 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, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
