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At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.

The Response of the Singers

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs 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 grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation 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 presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Singer’s Prevention Strategy

So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

My Experience

I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.