🔗 Share this article

Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.

The Reaction by the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Handling Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. 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 as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.