This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly 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's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
