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This time a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

The Response of the Singers

When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me 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. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.