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At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.

The Response of the Three Performers

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Handling Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. 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. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.

The Results

I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.