Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common 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, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
