Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
