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This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.

The Reaction of the Singers

Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Handling Nasal Congestion

As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating 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 directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

The Results

I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.