Around this period the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil 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 which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
