At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party 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 Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. 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 that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
