Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, 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 provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
