Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. 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. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, located, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
