This time last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, 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. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
