This time the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response by the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
