This time last year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, 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. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
