Unbearable Agony: A Personal Fight Against the Mysterious Pain of Cluster Headache Syndrome
It was a gloomy Monday in the morning in September 2016. I worked as a educator, attempting to manage a new group of students, when a intense sensation erupted behind my one eye. Then came rapid stabs, reminiscent of lightning bolts. As the school day came and went, the discomfort eased and then returned with greater force. Four times that day I handed over a teaching assistant with worksheets and hurried to the school bathroom to douse my face with cool water. I took ibuprofen, but the pain remained unrelenting.
The attacks returned frequently that autumn, and again in spring, soon establishing an annual cycle. September and October were the most severe, then the late winter. I could anticipate the pattern: a warning sensation in the shower, early pangs on the commute, full-blown agony in class by mid-morning. In late 2019, a GP eventually sent me to a neurologist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headaches.
Cluster headaches typically begin with severe discomfort behind one eye that persists up to three hours.
About 1 in 1000 people suffer by the condition, and males are more frequently diagnosed. Attacks typically start with abrupt, excruciating agony around a single eye that reaches its peak within minutes and lasts for up to three hours. Attacks occur in cycles, daily or several times a day, and are associated with red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or face perspiration. I have the episodic form, which occurs in seasonal cycles; some patients have chronic cluster headaches, defined by the lack of long symptom-free periods.
What connects sufferers is the severity. One study rated the sensation at 9.7 out of 10, higher than broken bones or other conditions. Another found a significant percentage of cluster headache patients reported suicidal thoughts during bouts; the number fell to 4% when they were not in pain.
One patient, in her seventies, a chronic patient from Wales, finds this understandable. Her attacks started when she was a toddler. “I would hurl myself on the floor and bang my head. That was attributed to being spoiled,” she says. Her symptoms deteriorated through her youth. Drinking in her adolescence, similar to several causes, made things worse. After having alcohol at her graduation party, she recalls barely being able to see on the transport home.
Her relatives often interpreted her episodes as drunken behavior. Understanding finally came from her parent and then from her husband, her spouse. “I was very lucky to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs took office work after relocating, but often hid her condition. She was fired from one job, in part due to time off during episodes. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in 2002 at a national hospital.
Nevertheless, the failure to organize life around unpredictable pain took its toll. She especially hated being unable to plan social events, being seen as flaky as a co-worker, and even having to be cared for by her children during the incapacitation caused by the worst episodes. “It steals from you of the small liberties we don't value until they're gone,” she says. She remembers winning tickets for a significant concert, only to have an attack inside a facility.
Headaches have been documented across history. “The first account of headache comes by way of the ancient civilizations in antiquity,” write experts in a publication on the subject. They attributed the ailment to an evil spirit who afflicted his sufferers' heads.
Ancient medical records suggest bizarre treatments for what modern experts would describe as a headache disorder. In the middle ages, severe headache was recognised as a distinct condition, with treatments ranging from bloodletting to other, more folk cures.
It was a Dutch doctor who provided the first comprehensive account of a cluster headache. In his medical observations, he describes a patient “afflicted with a very intense headache occurring and vanishing daily at fixed hours”.
Cluster headaches were only officially recognised by international medical committees in 1988. From the 1960s to the late 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a problem with a key blood vessel which supplies blood to the brain. Leading specialists in diagnosing the disorder note this.
In 1998, researchers released the findings of a study for which they had triggered attacks in patients and observed the episodes in a brain scanner. The results, featured in a prominent medical publication, showed activation of the a brain region, which is responsible for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in pain, and a deactivation when they felt better.
In spite of such advances, identification remains slow. Jamie Charteris's attacks began in the 1980s and felt like “a balloon being blown up behind my left eye”. Doctors thought he had a sinus issue; he underwent four surgeries before eventually being correctly identified in 2014, after a physician looked up his symptoms.
Neurologists say delays in diagnosing and managing happen because patients are rarely seen mid-attack. “You're exhausted and depressed, but not in severe pain,” a doctor says. He works by eliminating other primary head pain conditions, such as tension-type headache, before confirming the disorder. A detailed patient history is essential: on which part of the head do symptoms occur? For how long? What season? Are there triggers, such as certain foods? Specific characteristics such as redness, sagging eyelids and stuffy nose help confirm cluster headaches. Once identified, patients may be referred to specialist centers. But many first go to A&E or are given inadequate treatments.
Dorothy Chapman, 78, has experienced the condition for most of her adult life, although she hasn't had an attack since recent years. When she was in her 20s, she had her molars extracted because dentists misinterpreted her symptoms. She thinks the dental profession still need much more awareness. When a sufferer sought help from a support group, it was Chapman who responded. I remember calling a support line during an bout in early 2021; a reassuring advisor talked them through oxygen treatment and medication until the attack eased.
National guidance on treatment recommend that patients are offered high-dose oxygen and/or a anti-migraine drug delivered by injection. No tablets or opioids should be used. Prophylactic choices include verapamil, which reportedly soothes the attacks of some individuals.
But consultant specialists believe the official guidelines need revising to reflect a more defined treatment process and help GPs avoid misprescribing. For episodic patients, timing is critical: “The duration of the cycle dictates the treatment.” Short cycles with occasional attacks are managed with abortive treatment alone. More prolonged or more intense bouts require preventives such as certain drugs, sometimes paired with steroids. A significant number of patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a cycle – an procedure into the area of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve activity.
The official guidance need revising to reflect a