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At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

The Response from the Singers

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy

Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.