At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
