Around this period the previous year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
