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Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take by the Singers

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. 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 commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.

What Happened Next

I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.