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This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take of the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine

Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

My Experience

I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.