At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, 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 the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” 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. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
