Around this period a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. 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 during the cold months based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
