At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
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 on how to avoid catching colds 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 lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
