This time the previous year, I found myself 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. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
