This time the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, 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, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
