At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included 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 somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, 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 others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, 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 into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
