This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. 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 the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching 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 as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter 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 – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
