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Around this period a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees 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.

Their Take by the Singers

Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy

Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.