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Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees 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 topic for future discussion.

The Response by the Three Performers

When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. 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. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.

Handling Nasal Congestion

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy

Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, 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 later with additional bursts of the product.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, 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 now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.