At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, 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. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
