This time a year ago, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
