This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, 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 in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. 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.
