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Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.

The Response by the Trio

When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.

Handling Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. 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 cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Vocalist’s Health Routine

Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.

What Happened Next

I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.