This time the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession 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 lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, 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 cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues 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 use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
