Around this period last year, 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. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed 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. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
