Around this period a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
