At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. 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 janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
