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Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, 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, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

The Response of the Trio

When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Nasal Congestion

As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy

Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues 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 during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.