Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area 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 when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star 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 commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
