At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, 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 a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, 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 janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, 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 seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
