At this point the previous year, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – 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 know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
