This time last year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
