This time last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned 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, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, 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 became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
