This time the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
