At this point last year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
