Me and David Beckham: who'd have thought it? It turns out we have a lifelong affinity. That small plastic object in the pocket, wherever you go. You could reach for it instantly, though you might not for weeks. You tell a few close friends where you keep it, in case of a sudden attack. But hardly anyone sees you use it: how you exhale deeply, take a puff, and hold your breath for a moment of intense stillness, the world around you suspended. Then a release of breath, the inhaler has done its work and you can plunge back into the conversation, the run round the park or, in Beckham's case, LA Galaxy's capitulation to Real Salt Lake at the weekend.
Like Beckham, I have had asthma from childhood. I could hardly walk without wheezing. At nine years old I weighed three-and-a-half stone.
And although a picture of me taking my inhaler wouldn't make the Sun, people are amazed if they see me do it – because they've also seen me run five miles, climb a rockface, swim in the sea for an hour or cycle uphill through a downpour. In the collective imagination, a person with asthma is a waif.
My experience, on the other hand, is that those with asthma are extremely high achievers, fiercely independent, often the fittest adult in the room. We tend to be proud of the person we've made ourselves because it stands in relation to the child who couldn't run out to play with the others.
I got my first inhaler in 1969 when it was invented by a researcher at Fisons, and I was one of the guinea pigs. It saved my life. Then came steroid inhalers (which suppressed my immunity), and many more types. In my 30s I used yoga and homeopathy to free myself from dependency on inhalers. Now I am no longer "an asthmatic" but someone who occasionally needs an inhaler – like Beckham.
I don't believe that shame has led Beckham to keep his use of an inhaler hidden from view – after all, it liberates you to do the things everyone else can do. But as a child there's a deep humiliation in not being able to breathe. It's the action that defines being alive. Everyone can do it, without even thinking. So imagine if you were the only one in your class who sometimes couldn't. I know I felt a failure. And perhaps I've spent my adult life proving the opposite. David Beckham, high five to you.
