Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present 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 previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time 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 her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
