Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
