Around this period last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered 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, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, 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, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. 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 unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered 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. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
