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Around this period a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, 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. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.

The Reaction of the Singers

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, 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 family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, 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. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Handling Blocked Noses

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.