This time last year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers 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? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – 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, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, found, 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 leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
