Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
