This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
