This time the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, 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 somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent 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, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. 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 as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
