Around this period last year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. 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, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours 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 and this expected because of their careers 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.