Around this period a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. First, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
