Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
