This time a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. 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 based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, rediscovered, 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 now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
