Around this period a year ago, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned 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, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, 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 unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, 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 set for the fight.
