Around this period a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
