This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching 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, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room 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 producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary 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. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
