How to survive winter flu and sick season in London

Germs on the Tube transforming you into a hypochondriac? Relax. There are ways to beat 'noronola', says Phoebe Luckhurst
Paul Dallimore

Those who have endured great misery take solace in its recounting. Mothers tell childbirth tales and thrill in the graphic details; travellers recount the sorry afternoon on which they ran out of money, got robbed and missed a connecting flight. The wretched event is worth it for the anecdote.

This does not apply to norovirus. Noro stories are too unpleasant, and once you emerge from the darkness you want to pretend it never happened. You do not want to vocalise how you felt when you were twitching on a cool bathroom floor, and examining your sick to work out which meal you are chucking up now.

Channel 4 would not commission a black comedy about an episode of the winter vomiting bug.

However, ’tis the season to be vommy, and hypochondriacs across the capital are terrified of catching something that will definitely ruin their Christmas. You will know one (hint: if you know me, it’s me). If someone says they’re feeling “a bit off”, I will spend the rest of the afternoon working out whether I’ve touched something they have; I will hold my breath near them.

I will suggest to them that they go home, pretending to be solicitous; I’m not, I’m being selfish. They offer to get me a cup of tea and I recoil from their kindness. If a housemate falls ill, I move to my parents’ house until my ordeal is over.

Obviously this is wasted energy that an immune system needs; fear will not save you. But the “noronoid” need guidelines; it calms them. Here is how to handle sick season.

Bad germs travel fast

The Tube is a terrifying proposition for a wild-eyed hypochondriac. Germs thrive in the moist, subterranean conditions; people are always smearing their snot all over the poles and breathing their hot, infected breath up a stranger’s nose during rush hour.

Ideally, you’d get up an hour earlier and run, walk or cycle to work to avoid contact with people. Alternatively, a scarf is a passable ad hoc mask, and coating your hands in sanitiser at every stop minimises the risk of infection. They will resemble scaly trotters by January but you can just wear gloves. Also, wear gloves. You need something thick: woollen ones do little to keep germs out.

Bacterial life of the party

For a fun-loving hypochondriac, party season presents an unfortunate contradiction. You are looking forward to it but you know parties breed infection. The rooms are hot, and the toilets shared by hundreds of people. Guests fondle every crisp in the bowl; people double-dip the hummus. People turn up even though they’re feeling peaky, because they feared missing out. You snog someone without verifying whether or not they’ve been suffering digestive complaints.

There’s not much you can do apart from ask your hook-ups for a clean bill of health and avoid the dips, especially if you arrive toward the evening’s tail end and they’ve been festering in a clammy kitchen.

More A-Z of healthy ingredients

1/9

You are what you eat

Food can stoke your immune system; fortunately, many foods that do so are normal, everyday foods rather than the sort of ascetic fare that Gwyneth cooks up on Goop. Citrus fruits are rich in vitamin C: have a clementine! Or, even better, a red pepper, which has double the vitamin C of citrus fruits. Chew on some broccoli, or add an extra clove of garlic, which boosts the immune system.

Ginger contains capsaicin, which can see off infections before they seize hold; spinach is high in antioxidants and beta-carotene, which is thought to increase our body’s ability to fight infection. Turmeric is an anti-inflammatory. Granted, little applies specifically to the symptoms of noro V — to be frank, once you’re chucking up you’re a goner.

However, a strong immune system could preclude getting ill, so it’s worth changing your entire diet on the off- chance that it helps.

Doctor’s orders

Voodoo science appeals to your irrational fears; real science has real merit. What is the medical advice? “Wash your hands lots, then wash them some more,” advises a junior doctor. “Though not obsessively. Don’t touch your mouth with your hands, and steer clear of friends with diarrhoea or vomiting. If you get it, you are infectious up to 48 hours after your last bout of vomiting or diarrhoea, so be careful! And if you get it drink lots of water and get plenty of rest.”

We’re all doomed. I’ll be hibernating in a sanitised bunker, wearing a Hazmat suit; happy holidays.

Follow Phoebe on Twitter: @phoebeluckhurst

Create a FREE account to continue reading

eros

Registration is a free and easy way to support our journalism.

Join our community where you can: comment on stories; sign up to newsletters; enter competitions and access content on our app.

Your email address

Must be at least 6 characters, include an upper and lower case character and a number

You must be at least 18 years old to create an account

* Required fields

Already have an account? SIGN IN

By clicking Create Account you confirm that your data has been entered correctly and you have read and agree to our Terms of use , Cookie policy and Privacy policy .

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged in

MORE ABOUT