At this point last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. 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.
