Around this period the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. 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, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable 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. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary 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. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
