🔗 Share this article

At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, 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, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

The Response by the Three Performers

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Handling Nasal Congestion

When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.

The Results

I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.