This time a year ago, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. 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 use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
