At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party 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? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
