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This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party 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, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.

Their Take of the Singers

When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.

My Experience

I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.