Around this period the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
