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This time last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.

The Reaction from the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession 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, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect 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 ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.

The Results

I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. 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.