This time last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, 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, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, 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. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, 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, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
