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At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees 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 by the Three Performers

When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, 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 illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, 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 a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine

So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.