Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet 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, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
