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This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

The Response of the Three Performers

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Managing Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.