At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
