This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then 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 was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
