Around this period last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. 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 the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, 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.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent 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, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed 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. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
