Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
