At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, 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 the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers 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 others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
