At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
