Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, 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, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
