This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. 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 set for the fight.
