This time a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed 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 Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
