Around this period a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers 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 others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
