At this point a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, 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, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
