This time a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. 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, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, 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 spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then 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 use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
