This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly 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 sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues 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 directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.