I THOUGHT I had moved on from summers of inhalers, nasal sprays and sleeves stuffed with soggy tissues.

Up until my late twenties, while most people were out celebrating the warm weather, I would be reaching for small bottles to stick up my nose and tablets to swallow, in the hope of warding off the symptoms of hay fever.

I would struggle through the days, with a streaming nose, a tickly throat and red, swollen eyes that itched so much it took great willpower to resist rubbing them. On top of that, came extended bouts of sneezing that seemed to go on forever and occurred at the most inconvenient times, often when I was driving. It’s as hard to concentrate on the road when you’re taken over by a serious bout of sneezing as it is using a mobile phone - and that’s illegal.

In my teens it always coincided with exams, so where others had fluffy gonks and other good luck toys on their desks during O and A-levels, I had boxes of Kleenex.

Hay fever - the common name for allergic rhinitis - sufferers also feel tired and unwell as they battle through the months when the pollen count is at its highest.

I remember one year, when I walked with my friend alongside a field of oilseed rape. Almost immediately my mouth went dry and eyes began itching. Within minutes I looked like a rabbit with myxomatosis.

It hampers your social life too. Pub beer gardens were, for a long time, no-go areas, and on hot days when enjoying a cool drink, I had to drag my friends inside. Picnics were out.

You can’t underestimate the misery caused by hay fever. In the scheme of ailments it is relatively trivial, but it can trigger more serious concerns, especially for those with respiratory problems.

I suffered with hay fever for years and then, miraculously, it stopped. I didn’t get it any more, not even when I walked through fields of newly-mown grass. I could drive along country lanes with the car windows down and not feel a thing. It was bliss.

As time went on, I thought I’d left behind the days of holding wet flannels against my eyes and staying indoors for hours with the windows shut and my head under a towel.

But it was not to be - this year the loathsome symptoms have come back with a vengeance. As I write this, my nose is streaming, and I’ve had to commandeer our heavy-duty kitchen roll as tissues aren’t up to the job.

Up to 20 million Britons suffer from hay fever - one of the highest rates in the world. According to NHS statistics, around a fifth of the population is thought to suffer, and that figure rises to 37 per cent in teenagers.

A report by pollen and allergy expert Dr Jean Emberlin predicts that rates will double by 2030, as temperatures, pollution and urbanisation increase, leading to longer hay fever seasons and worsening symptoms.

This year pollen counts are the highest since 2008, with the warm, dry and breezy conditions ideal for wafting pollen from grass, plants and trees into our noses and throats.

The condition can develop at any time over the age of two years but typically begins during adolescence or early adulthood, but late onset cases are becoming more common. In addition, fewer people are ‘growing out’ of the condition once they reach adulthood.

Disturbingly, I'm growing back into it. There are now far more remedies available than when I last fell victim back in 1980, so I hope at least one will keep the symptoms at bay. I’ve put off buying any so far, because I’m still hoping it’s a temporary blip.

Although there is a silver lining. I can’t possibly help my husband - who thankfully doesn’t suffer - to mow the lawn.