Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
