Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
