Around this period a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone 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, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
