Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. 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 which herald the coming storm, 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. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. 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 approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
