Unbearable Agony: A Personal Struggle Against the Mysterious Pain of Cluster Headache Syndrome
It began on a gloomy Monday in the morning in September 2016. I was working as a teacher, trying to settle a new group of students, when a sharp pain bloomed behind my right eye. It was followed by quick jolts, like electric shocks. As each class progressed, the pain eased and then came back with increased force. Multiple times that day I handed over a colleague with activities and ran to the staff bathroom to soak my face with cool water. I took aspirin, but the agony remained unbearable.
The attacks appeared frequently that fall, and again in spring, soon forming an annual pattern. The autumn months were the worst, then February and March. I could predict the routine: a warning sensation in the morning, early twinges on the train, full-blown agony in the classroom by 9.30am. In late 2019, a GP eventually sent me to a specialist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headaches.
This condition typically begin with severe discomfort behind one eye that lasts up to several hours.
About one in 1,000 people suffer by the disorder, and males are more frequently diagnosed. Attacks typically begin with sudden, excruciating agony focused on a single eye that peaks within minutes and continues for as long as three hours. Attacks occur in cycles, daily or multiple times a day, and are associated with tearing eyes, drooping eyelids or facial sweating. There exists an episodic type, which occurs in periodic bouts; others have continuous attacks, characterized by the absence of extended pain-free periods.
What connects patients is the severity. One study rated the sensation at 9.7 out of 10, higher than broken bones or pancreatitis. Another found a significant percentage of cluster patients reported suicidal thoughts amid attacks; the number dropped to four percent when they were pain-free.
Val Hobbs, in her seventies, a chronic sufferer from Wales, isn't surprised. Her episodes began when she was two. “I would hurl myself on the ground and bang my head. That was put down to being spoiled,” she says. Her condition worsened through childhood. Alcohol in her adolescence, like several causes, made things more intense. After drinking sherry at her graduation party, she remembers barely being able to see on the transport home.
Her relatives often interpreted her attacks as drunken episodes. Support finally came from her parent and then from her partner, her spouse. “I was very lucky to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after relocating, but often hid her illness. She was fired from one job, in part due to time off during attacks. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in the early 2000s at a specialist neurology center.
Still, the inability to organize daily activities around unpredictable pain took its effect. She especially disliked being unable to plan social events, being seen as unreliable as a colleague, and even having to be looked after by her family during the incapacitation caused by the most severe episodes. “It robs you of the small freedoms we don't appreciate until they're gone,” she says. She remembers winning tickets for a significant concert, only to have an episode inside a facility.
Headaches have been described throughout history. “The first description of headache comes by way of the ancient civilizations in antiquity,” write authors in a book on the subject. They attributed the disease to an malevolent entity who afflicted his sufferers' heads.
Ancient medical texts propose unusual treatments for what some observers would describe as a migraine. In the medieval times, migraine was identified as a separate condition, with treatments ranging from bloodletting to other, more folk cures.
It was a European physician who provided the initial comprehensive description of a cluster headache. In his medical observations, he describes a patient “afflicted with a very severe headache happening and disappearing daily at fixed hours”.
The disorder were only officially classified by international medical societies in the late 1980s. From the mid-20th century to the late 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a problem with a key blood vessel that supplies blood to the brain. Leading specialists in diagnosing the disorder note this.
In the late 1990s, researchers published the results of a research project for which they had triggered attacks in patients and monitored the episodes in a imaging machine. The data, featured in a prominent medical publication, showed increased activity of the hypothalamus, which is in charge for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in pain, and a deactivation when they felt better.
In spite of such advances, diagnosis remains slow. Jamie Charteris's symptoms started in the 1980s and felt like “a balloon being inflated behind my left eye”. Doctors thought he had sinus problems; he underwent four operations before finally being diagnosed in recently, after a doctor looked up his complaints.
Specialists say wait times in diagnosing and managing occur because patients are rarely seen mid-attack. “You're tired and depressed, but not in severe pain,” one says. He works by ruling out other common head pain disorders, such as tension-type headache, before confirming the disorder. A thorough history is essential: on which side do signs occur? For how much time? What time of year? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Specific characteristics such as tearing, sagging eyelids and nasal congestion help verify the diagnosis. Once diagnosed, patients may be sent to specialist centers. But a lot of first arrive to A&E or are given unsuitable treatments.
Dorothy Chapman, 78, has suffered from cluster headaches for the majority of her adult life, although she has been free from an episode since 2016. When she was in her twenties, she had her molars extracted because dentists misunderstood her pain. She believes dentists still need greater awareness. When a sufferer sought help from a charity, it was she who responded. I remember calling a support line during an attack in 2021; a reassuring volunteer talked me through oxygen therapy and drugs until the attack eased.
Official guidelines on management recommend that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen and/or a anti-migraine drug delivered by nasal spray. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Prophylactic choices include verapamil, which apparently helps manage the bouts of well-known individuals.
But consultant neurologists believe the official guidelines need revising to reflect a more defined treatment pathway and help GPs avoid incorrect prescriptions. For periodic patients, the treatment window is critical: “The length of the cycle dictates the treatment.” Brief cycles with infrequent episodes are managed with acute treatment alone. Longer or more severe bouts require preventives such as certain drugs, sometimes paired with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a nerve block injection during a cycle – an injection into the area of the head where the pain is that decreases nerve signals.
The national guidelines need updating to reflect a