🔗 Share this article

Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.

Their Take of the Trio

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

The Results

I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.