This time the previous year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a 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, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
