Around this period the previous year, 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. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime 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 wondered 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, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
