This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, 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, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
