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Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present 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 a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers 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.

Their Take of the Trio

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – 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 nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.

Handling Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy

Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.

The Results

I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.