Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
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, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
