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Around this period last year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

The Response of the Singers

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Managing Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, 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 spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.