At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered 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, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then 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 instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
