Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, 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, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
