Unbearable Suffering: My Struggle Against the Puzzling Pain of Cluster Headache Syndrome
It began on a overcast Monday morning in the autumn of 2016. I was working as a teacher, trying to settle a new class, when a intense sensation bloomed behind my one eye. It was followed by quick jolts, reminiscent of lightning bolts. As the school day came and went, the discomfort eased and then returned with greater intensity. Multiple times that day I left a colleague with worksheets and ran to the school bathroom to douse my face with cool water. I took paracetamol, but the pain remained unrelenting.
The attacks appeared repeatedly that autumn, and again in the spring, soon forming an yearly pattern. The autumn months were the worst, then the late winter. I could anticipate the routine: aura in the morning, early twinges on the commute, full-on agony in class by mid-morning. In late 2019, a GP eventually referred me to a specialist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headaches.
This condition often begin with intense pain behind a single eye that persists up to three hours.
Approximately one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the condition, and men are more frequently affected. Attacks usually start with abrupt, severe pain focused on one eye that reaches its peak within a short time and continues for up to three hours. Episodes come in clusters, daily or multiple times a day, and are accompanied by red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or face perspiration. I have an episodic type, which arrives in seasonal cycles; others have continuous cluster headaches, defined by the lack of extended pain-free periods.
What unites patients is the intensity. One research paper scored the pain at 9.7 out of 10, higher than broken bones or other conditions. Another discovered a significant percentage of cluster headache patients reported suicidal thoughts amid bouts; the figure fell to 4% when they were not in pain.
One patient, 74, a long-term patient from Wales, finds this understandable. Her episodes began when she was a toddler. “I would hurl myself on the ground and hit my head. That was attributed to being a difficult child,” she says. Her condition worsened through her youth. Alcohol in her adolescence, like many triggers, made things more intense. After drinking sherry at her graduation party, she recalls hardly being able to see on the transport home.
Her relatives often mistook her episodes as drunken behavior. Understanding finally came from her father and then from her husband, Rod. “I was very fortunate to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs took office work after moving, but often hid her illness. She was dismissed from one job, partly due to absences during episodes. Her breakthrough identification came in the early 2000s at a national neurology center.
Nevertheless, the inability to plan daily activities around erratic attacks took its toll. She especially disliked being unable to plan social events, being seen as flaky as a co-worker, and even having to be looked after by her family during the incapacitation caused by the worst episodes. “It robs you of the small freedoms we don't appreciate until they're gone,” she says. She remembers obtaining tickets for a major concert, only to have an attack inside a portable toilet.
Headaches have been described across the ages. “The first description of headache originates from the ancient civilizations in 4000BC,” write authors in a book on the subject. They linked the ailment to an evil entity who afflicted his victims' heads.
Ancient medical texts suggest unusual remedies for what some observers would classify as a migraine. In the middle ages, migraine was recognised as a separate disorder, with therapies including herbal concoctions to other, more superstitious remedies.
It was a Dutch physician who provided the first comprehensive account of a cluster-type attack. In his writings, he speaks of a patient “suffering with a very intense headache happening and vanishing each day at specific hours”.
The disorder were only officially recognised by international headache societies in 1988. From the 1960s to the 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a problem with a key artery which delivers blood to the head. Leading experts in diagnosing the disorder note this.
In the late 1990s, researchers released the results of a study for which they had triggered attacks in patients and observed the attacks in a imaging machine. The results, published in a prominent journal, showed increased activity of the hypothalamus, which is in charge for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in discomfort, and a deactivation when they recovered.
In spite of such advances, identification remains slow. Jamie Charteris's attacks started in 1986 and felt like “a balloon being blown up behind my left eye”. Doctors thought he had sinus problems; he underwent multiple surgeries before finally being diagnosed in recently, after a physician researched his complaints.
Neurologists say wait times in diagnosing and treatment happen because patients are seldom seen during an episode. “You're exhausted and depressed, but not in severe pain,” a doctor says. He proceeds by eliminating other common head pain disorders, such as migraine, before confirming the disorder. A detailed history is essential: on which part of the head do symptoms appear? For how much time? What time of year? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Specific features such as redness, sagging eyelids and nasal congestion help verify cluster headaches. Once identified, patients may be sent to specialist clinics. But many first arrive to emergency rooms or are given inadequate therapies.
A charity trustee, in her late seventies, has experienced cluster headaches for the majority of her life, although she hasn't had an episode since recent years. When she was in her 20s, she had her teeth extracted because dental professionals misunderstood her symptoms. She thinks dentists still need much more awareness. When another patient sought help from a charity, it was Chapman who responded. The author recalls calling a support line during an attack in 2021; a reassuring volunteer talked me through oxygen therapy and medication until the attack passed.
National guidelines on management recommend that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen and/or a specific medication administered by injection. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Preventive choices include verapamil, which apparently helps manage the bouts of well-known individuals.
But leading neurologists believe the official guidelines need updating to reflect a clearer treatment pathway and help GPs avoid incorrect prescriptions. For periodic patients, the treatment window is everything: “The duration of the bout dictates the approach.” Brief bouts with infrequent episodes are handled with acute therapy alone. More prolonged or more intense bouts require preventives such as verapamil, sometimes paired with steroids. A significant number of patients also receive a nerve block injection during a cycle – an procedure into the side of the skull where the discomfort is that reduces nerve activity.
The national guidelines need revising to reflect a