Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
