At this point last year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered 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, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues 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 based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
