At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
