At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues 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 sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, etc. 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 oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
