At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime 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 wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, 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. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. 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 from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
