At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
