🔗 Share this article I Am the Ruler of Catching Colds – and I Can Tell You Ways to Prevent It At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day. The Reaction from the Three Performers Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones. Handling Nasal Congestion When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. 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. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” 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. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible. The Singer’s Health Routine Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff. My Experience I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.