At this point the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly 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. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
