At this point a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, 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. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly 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, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
