At this point last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
