At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
