At this point last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. 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. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work 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, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. 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, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
