This time last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. 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 colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, 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, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, 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 now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
