At this point last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
