At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent 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 always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” 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. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. 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, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
