At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs 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. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
