Bernard O'Shea: When hayfever begins in your forties

"I had spent my youth rolling in fields, daisy chains on my head, sneeze-free... yet here I was, in my prime, sniffing and sneezing, going slowly demented."

Pic: iStock

"Midlife is when you reach the top of the ladder and find it against the wrong wall." 

This quote by Joseph Campbell, although poignant, misses one crucial point. The true midlife crisis isn't realising you've been climbing the wrong ladder - it's discovering hayfever.

My wife has taken great schadenfreude in my new personal streaming service. 

For years I would bemoan her constant sneezing. I read an article about positive reinforcement and would tell her in a neutral tone, "Stop sneezing", every time her Illiadic nostril adventures began. 

It would drive her mad, and she'd constantly tell me it didn't work, but I thought it did. Now the roles have reversed, and boy, she has consistently used it as her weapon of choice every time my own sternutation begins. 

(Yep, sternutation is another word for sneezing - thanks, online thesaurus.)

Why would a grown man like me, in his forties, start noticing pollen? 

I had spent my youth rolling in fields, daisy chains on my head, sneeze-free. I was the human embodiment of the opening sequence of Little House on the Prairie. 

Yet here I was, in my prime, sniffing and sneezing, going slowly demented. 

My new summer accessory, to quote my mother's well-worn phrase, "had my mind addled."

Well, science is as addled as I am. 

According to an article on Medical News Today, there's a wealth of research around why hayfever starts in childhood, but very little on why it might suddenly appear in your forties: "Changes in the immune system, family history, and environmental changes are all thought to be factors in developing new allergies later in life." 

It's like you hit 40, and nature suddenly says, "I bet you've taken fresh air for granted. Wait until you see the nightmare I've prepared for you."

Bernard O'Shea. Photograph Moya Nolan

Hay fever, once dubbed the "aristocratic disease," originated from the Greek and Latin words for "grass" and "fever". British doctor John Bostock first used the term in 1819, who mistakenly linked its symptoms to the luxuries of the upper class and the heat of summer. 

His personal battles with the condition, documented in his study "Case of a Periodical Affection of the Eyes and Chest", led to the popularity of the term and its associated lifestyle solutions, including seaside retreats like his clifftop house near Ramsgate. 

The 'hay fever' term became so widespread that by the mid-1850s, Britain was labelled the "haunt of hay fever". 

It took another hay fever sufferer, Charles Blackley, to correctly link the condition to pollen in 1859. This misperceived 'high society' affliction found its way into the American zeitgeist, transforming the malady into a fashionable mark of the elite. 

But how do you deal with this newfound affliction? So much online information can be summed up by the phrase, "When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade", essentially, "When life gives you hay fever, you buy shares in Kleenex." 

Everyone has a home remedy from Vaseline up the nostrils to salt water. Some even force themselves to be stung by stinging nettles in their hanky.

The medical cure seems relatively straightforward; antihistamines. For me, they work perfectly. So there you have it! End of article. 

Oh no, wait, there's a problem. They make me so drowsy I can barely get up to put the kettle on. 

This affliction isn't unique to me. Other streamy-eyed victims fall victim to the same side effect.

But this year, I have been better. Even my nearest and dearest have commentated on it, and thanks to my iCal (if this app weren't on my phone, I would forget to eat), there is only one thing I'm doing this year that I haven't been doing for the last four. 

The magic cure for me is (drum roll) the Steam Room! I frequent it nearly every day and use it as my "treat" to convince myself to get some exercise. 

When I looked up whether this was the secret anti-sneeze ingredient in my life, the internet spat out consistent homages to the benefits of it on those who suffer from hay fever.

But if you're reading this like me, you might be fed up with everybody's cure-all. But if you have a kettle, basin, and towel, you should try it. If it doesn't work well, you can enjoy a homemade foot spa or do the dishes.