Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, 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 up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
