This time last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
