Around this period last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, 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. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
