This time a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned 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. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’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 listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. 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, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
