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Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned 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 had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting 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 some do not? A question for another day.

Their Take of the Trio

Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – 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 firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, 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 evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine

So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.

My Experience

I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, 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 leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.