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This time a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone 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 questioned 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, and some do not? A question for another day.

The Reaction by the Trio

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed 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. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.