This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, 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. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – 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. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
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 admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
