At this point last year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a 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, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
