Around this period the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was a major concern 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
