Around this period the previous year, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, don’t work. 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 directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
