This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, 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, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
