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At this point a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take of the Trio

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, 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 get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Handling Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.

The Vocalist’s Health Routine

Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.