This time the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
