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This time last year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

The Reaction of the Trio

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.

Handling Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy

Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.

The Results

I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.