This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
