At this point a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
