This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was 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, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered 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. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. 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 oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
