Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, 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 was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months 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 into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, found, 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. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
