At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. 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 felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then 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 instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
