This time a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Trio
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 regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was a major concern 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. 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 brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
