This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. 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 instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
