Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, 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. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
