Around this period a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common 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? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
