At this point last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, 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 relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
