Around this period a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time 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. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
