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Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.

Their Take by the Singers

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Handling Nasal Congestion

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy

So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

The Results

I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.