At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. 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 felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
