Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, 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 in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
