Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, 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 janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle 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 her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
