At this point the previous year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly 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. In other words, 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 cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
