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This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, 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, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.

The Response by the Singers

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio 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 that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Managing Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

The Results

I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.