This time a year ago, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, 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, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, 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, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
