Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. 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 nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists 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 sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
