At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching 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? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat 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 leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
