This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response from the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, 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, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
