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At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.

Their Take by the Singers

When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless 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 creating bad breath.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy

Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.