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Around this period last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.

The Reaction by the Singers

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine

Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.