This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion 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 have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, 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. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
