At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – 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, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then 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 instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
