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At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

The Response by the Singers

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. 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 indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away 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. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Managing Blocked Noses

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy

Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.

The Results

I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.