This time a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned 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? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
