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This time the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

The Response of the Singers

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine

Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.

My Experience

I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.