Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, 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. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. 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 relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
