At this point last year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. 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 clearly took it all very seriously. 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. 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. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, 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. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
