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This time last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.

Their Take by the Trio

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

My Experience

I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.