This time last year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned 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, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
