This time a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
