Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. 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 was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
