At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned 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 a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
