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At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take from the Singers

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Handling Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent 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 cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

My Experience

I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.