Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which 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 firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, 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, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, 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 – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
