This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
