Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, 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, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, 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 demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
