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Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.

Their Take from the Singers

Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume 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 making my breath smell terrible.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.