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Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

Their Take by the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Managing Blocked Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. 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 cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.