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This time last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.

The Reaction from the Singers

At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. 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 sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.