Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
