Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees 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? A question for another day.
The Response by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues 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 directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment 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 mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
