This time a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, 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, yet 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. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues 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 as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
