This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, 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 learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. 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 appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, located, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
