Around this period last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers 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? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
