Around this period a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
