Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – 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, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. 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, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
