This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while 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. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
