This time the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. 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, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
