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Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.

Their Take by the Trio

At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

The Results

I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.