At this point a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. 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 feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad 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 janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
