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At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.

The Response of the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Handling Blocked Noses

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.