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Around this period the previous year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, 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. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take from the Trio

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Handling Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.

The Vocalist’s Health Routine

Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star 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 directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.