Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast 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. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. 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, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, 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 commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
