Around this period last year, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
