This time last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, 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 the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, 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 wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. 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 instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, found, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
