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This time the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.

Their Take by the Singers

When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Health Routine

So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. 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 oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.