Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
