At this point the previous year, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. 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, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, 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, damaging their headset equipment.
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 giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, 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 very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
Eva de Vries is a passionate book lover and local writer from Eindhoven.
