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Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.

Their Take of the Singers

Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers 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, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Handling Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.

My Experience

I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.