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This time a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers 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 by the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

My Experience

I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.