At this point last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
