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At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.

The Reaction of the Singers

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team 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 all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

The Results

I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, 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.