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Around this period last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.

Their Take from the Singers

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.