Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
