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At this point a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.

The Reaction by the Singers

When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Handling Blocked Noses

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.

The Results

I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.