This time last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
