At this point the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – 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, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
