At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, 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 have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
