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At this point last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.

Their Take from the Trio

At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, 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. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Handling Stuffy Noses

When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Health Routine

Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

The Results

I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.