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At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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 in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.

The Response from the Three Performers

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.

Handling Nasal Congestion

Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. 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 showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered 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 up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, 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 ready for battle.