This time the previous year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, 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, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, 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 than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
