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This time a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.

Their Take of the Singers

When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Nasal Congestion

When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Vocalist’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.