Around this period the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery 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.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
