At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, 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 know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
