Around this period a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, 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 into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
