Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
