At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, 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 delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
