This time a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, 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 very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach 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 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 apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
