This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, 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 must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, 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 was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
