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At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take from the Trio

At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Managing Nasal Congestion

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.