Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. 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, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star 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 throughout the winter based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
