This time the previous year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – 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 know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, 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. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
