This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, 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 based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
