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At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. 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 had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

The Response from the Singers

When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, 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 unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy

Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. 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 as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

My Experience

I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. 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. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.