I Am the King of the Common Cold – and I'm Able to Tell You How to Avoid One

At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

The Response of the Trio

At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.

Dealing With Nasal Congestion

Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.

The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy

So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.

The Results

I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.