Around this period a year ago, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, 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 leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
