This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. 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. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching 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 because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
