At this point last year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common 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 others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
