This time a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone 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, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. 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. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
