Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly 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. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully 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 approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
