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This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

The Reaction by the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. 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. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. 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 poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Vocalist’s Health Routine

Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.