Around this period last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. 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 approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
