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At this point the previous year, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.

The Response by the Three Performers

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, 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 leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Managing Nasal Congestion

When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.

The Results

I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.