At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. 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, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’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, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
