Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response by the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – 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 know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
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 help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
