At this point the previous year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered 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, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me 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 producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
