This time the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds 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 since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
