At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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 a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, 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 unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
