This time last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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 in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, 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 delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. 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 approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
