This time a year ago, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. 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 feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. 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 cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
