Around this period last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space 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 as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, 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 extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently 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 use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
