At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, 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. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad 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. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, 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 was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
