Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old 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 questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
Maya Chen is a freelance writer and urban enthusiast with a passion for documenting city life and cultural shifts.
