This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, 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? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand 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 firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching 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 while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, 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 set for the fight.
