Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
