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This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.

The Response of the Three Performers

When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – 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, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Managing Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.