This time the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. 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 had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, located, 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 her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
