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Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.

The Response from the Three Performers

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.

Managing Stuffy Noses

As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. 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’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime

So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.

My Experience

I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.