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At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.

The Response by the Three Performers

When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.