This time a year ago, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw 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 leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
