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Around this period a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned 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 was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take of the Trio

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Handling Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses 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 as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.

The Results

I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.