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Around this period a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take from the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.

Handling Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

The Results

I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. 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 prepared to combat.