This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
