This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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. The festivities were fun, 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. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – 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. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. 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 during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, 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 into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
