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This time last year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.

The Response from the Singers

Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. 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 sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.

The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.