This time a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, 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, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a 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, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
