Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
