Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. 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 commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
