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At this point last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.

The Reaction by the Singers

When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand 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 know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, 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, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.