Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. 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, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
