At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours 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 which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, 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 extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
