At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered 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, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response from the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star 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 instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
