Unbearable Agony: A Personal Fight Against the Puzzling Suffering of Cluster Headache Syndrome
It was a overcast weekday in the 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 rapid stabs, reminiscent of electric shocks. As the school day came and went, the discomfort subsided and then came back with increased force. Multiple times that day I handed over a teaching assistant with worksheets and ran to the school bathroom to soak my face with cool water. I tried paracetamol, but the agony remained unbearable.
The headaches appeared repeatedly that fall, and once more in spring, soon forming an yearly pattern. The autumn months were the most severe, then February and March. I could predict the routine: aura in the morning, early pangs on the commute, full-blown pain in class by mid-morning. In 2019, a GP finally sent me to a neurologist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headache disorder.
This condition typically start with severe discomfort behind a single eye that lasts up to several hours.
About 1 in 1000 people are affected by the disorder, and males are more often diagnosed. Attacks typically begin with sudden, severe agony around one eye that peaks within minutes and lasts for up to three hours. Episodes come in clusters, daily or multiple times a day, and are associated with red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or facial sweating. I have the episodic form, which occurs in periodic bouts; others have chronic attacks, defined by the absence of long pain-free periods.
What connects patients is the intensity. One research paper scored the pain at 9.7 out of 10, more severe than bone fractures or other conditions. Another discovered a significant percentage of cluster headache patients reported thoughts of self-harm amid attacks; the number dropped to four percent when they were pain-free.
Val Hobbs, in her seventies, a long-term patient from Wales, finds this understandable. Her attacks started when she was a toddler. “I would throw myself on the floor and bang my head. That was put down to being a difficult child,” she says. Her condition deteriorated through her youth. Alcohol in her adolescence, similar to several causes, made things worse. After drinking sherry at her school leaving party, she remembers hardly being able to see on the transport home.
Her family often mistook her episodes as drunken behavior. Understanding eventually came from her parent and then from her husband, Rod. “I was very fortunate to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs found clerical work after moving, but often concealed her illness. She was dismissed from one job, in part due to absences during attacks. Her breakthrough identification came in the early 2000s at a national hospital.
Still, the failure to plan daily activities around erratic pain took its effect. She particularly disliked being unable to plan social events, being seen as unreliable as a colleague, and even having to be cared for by her children during the incapacitation caused by the worst episodes. “It steals from you of the simple liberties we don't value until they're gone,” she says. She remembers obtaining tickets for a major concert, only to have an attack inside a facility.
Headaches have been documented across history. “The earliest description of headache originates from the ancient civilizations in 4000BC,” write authors in a publication on the topic. They attributed the disease to an evil entity who afflicted his sufferers' heads.
Historical healing records propose unusual treatments for what modern experts would describe as a headache disorder. In the medieval times, severe headache was recognised as a distinct disorder, with therapies including herbal concoctions to other, more folk cures.
It was a Dutch physician who provided the first detailed account of a cluster headache. In his writings, he speaks of a patient “suffering with a very intense headache occurring and disappearing daily at specific hours”.
The disorder were only formally recognised by global medical societies in 1988. From the mid-20th century to the 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a problem with a key blood vessel which delivers blood to the brain. Prominent experts in diagnosing the disorder explain this.
In 1998, scientists released the results of a study for which they had triggered attacks in patients and observed the attacks in a brain scanner. The data, published in a major journal, showed increased activity of the hypothalamus, which is responsible for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in discomfort, and a deactivation when they recovered.
In spite of such advances, identification remains delayed. One man's attacks began in 1986 and felt like “a balloon being blown up behind my one eye”. Doctors thought he had sinus problems; he had multiple surgeries before finally being correctly identified in recently, after a physician researched his complaints.
Specialists say delays in diagnosing and managing happen because patients are seldom seen mid-attack. “You're tired and depressed, but not in severe pain,” a doctor says. He works by ruling out other common headache conditions, such as tension-type headache, before diagnosing cluster headaches. A thorough patient history is essential: on which side do signs occur? For how long? What season? Are there precipitating factors, such as alcohol? Specific features such as tearing, drooping eyelids and nasal congestion help confirm the diagnosis. Once identified, patients may be referred to dedicated clinics. But a lot of first go to emergency rooms or are given unsuitable therapies.
A charity trustee, in her late seventies, has suffered from cluster headaches for the majority of her life, although she hasn't had an attack since 2016. When she was in her 20s, she had her teeth extracted because dentists misinterpreted her pain. She believes the dental profession still need greater education. When a sufferer sought help from a charity, it was she who replied. I remember calling a support line during an attack in early 2021; a calm volunteer guided them through oxygen treatment and medication until the attack eased.
Official guidelines on treatment recommend that patients are offered high-dose oxygen and/or a anti-migraine medication administered by nasal spray. No oral painkillers or strong analgesics should be used. Preventive options include verapamil, which apparently helps manage the bouts of some individuals.
But consultant neurologists believe the official guidelines need revising to reflect a clearer clinical process and help GPs avoid incorrect prescriptions. For episodic patients, the treatment window is critical: “The length of the cycle dictates the treatment.” Short bouts with occasional episodes are managed with acute therapy only. More prolonged or more severe periods require preventives such as certain drugs, sometimes paired with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a cycle – an injection into the side of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve signals.
The official guidance need updating to reflect a