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At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.

Their Take by the Three Performers

When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.

Managing Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect 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 ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.

My Experience

I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.