At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and more. 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 leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
