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At this point the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take of the Singers

When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.