This time a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, 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. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, 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, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed 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. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
