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Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.

The Response by the Three Performers

When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Handling Nasal Congestion

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, 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 janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.

The Results

I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.