At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, 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 as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, 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 must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
