At this point last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this 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 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 nasal passages are more congested, 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 evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, 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 cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
