Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. 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. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
