Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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 a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists 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 sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, 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.
