At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked 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 help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, 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, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
