🔗 Share this article

Around this period a year ago, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.

The Response of the Trio

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Blocked Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect 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 ideal. 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 know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.

The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime

Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.

What Happened Next

I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.