At this point a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
