At this point a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, 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 cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: 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 now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
