Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
