Around this period a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned 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 in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. 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 directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
