At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists 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 all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get 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. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
