Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. 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, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, 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, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. 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 that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
