Full-Blown Pain: A Personal Struggle Against the Mysterious Suffering of Cluster Headache Syndrome
It was a gloomy Monday in the morning in the autumn of 2016. I was working as a educator, attempting to manage a new group of students, when a sharp sensation sprang behind my one eye. It was followed by quick shocks, like electric shocks. As the school day came and went, the pain eased and then came back with greater force. Multiple times that day I handed over a teaching assistant with worksheets and ran to the staff bathroom to soak my face with cool water. I tried aspirin, but the pain remained unrelenting.
The attacks appeared repeatedly that autumn, and once more in the spring, soon establishing an yearly pattern. The autumn months were the most severe, then the late winter. I could anticipate the pattern: a warning sensation in the morning, early twinges on the commute, full-on agony in the classroom by mid-morning. In late 2019, a GP finally sent me to a specialist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headaches.
Cluster headaches often begin with intense discomfort behind a single eye that persists up to several hours.
Approximately one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the disorder, and men are more often affected. Cluster headaches typically begin with abrupt, excruciating agony focused on one eye that reaches its peak within minutes and continues for up to three hours. Attacks occur in cycles, daily or several times a day, and are associated with tearing eyes, drooping eyelids or face perspiration. I have the episodic form, which occurs in periodic cycles; some patients have chronic cluster headaches, defined by the absence of long symptom-free periods.
What connects sufferers is the intensity. One research paper scored the pain at 9.7 10, more severe than broken bones or pancreatitis. Another discovered a significant percentage of cluster headache patients experienced thoughts of self-harm amid attacks; the figure dropped to 4% when they were pain-free.
One patient, 74, 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 put down to being spoiled,” she says. Her condition deteriorated through her youth. Alcohol in her adolescence, like many causes, made things worse. After having alcohol at her school leaving party, she remembers barely being able to see on the bus home.
Her family often interpreted her attacks as drunken episodes. Understanding finally came from her parent and then from her husband, her spouse. “I was very fortunate to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs found office work after moving, but often concealed her illness. She was fired from one job, partly due to absences during attacks. Her definitive diagnosis came in the early 2000s at a national neurology center.
Nevertheless, the inability to organize life around erratic attacks took its effect. She particularly hated being unable to plan outings, being seen as flaky as a co-worker, and even having to be looked after by her family during the incapacitation caused by the most severe episodes. “It robs you of the simple liberties 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 earliest description of headache originates from the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write experts in a book on the topic. They attributed the ailment to an evil entity who afflicted his victims' heads.
Ancient medical records suggest bizarre treatments for what modern observers would classify as a migraine. In the middle ages, severe headache was recognised as a separate disorder, with treatments ranging from bloodletting to other, more superstitious cures.
It was a Dutch physician who provided the initial comprehensive description of a cluster headache. In his medical observations, he describes a patient “suffering with a very severe headache happening and vanishing daily at fixed hours”.
Cluster headaches were only formally classified by international medical societies in the late 1980s. From the 1960s to the late 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a problem with a major artery which supplies blood to the brain. Prominent specialists in diagnosing the disorder explain this.
In the late 1990s, researchers released the results of a study for which they had triggered cluster headaches in patients and monitored the attacks in a brain scanner. The results, featured in a prominent medical publication, showed activation of the a brain region, which is in charge for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in discomfort, and a reduction when they felt better.
Despite such advances, diagnosis remains delayed. Jamie Charteris's symptoms started in the 1980s and felt like “a modelling balloon being blown up behind my one eye”. Doctors thought he had a sinus issue; he underwent multiple surgeries before finally being diagnosed in 2014, after a doctor researched his symptoms.
Neurologists say delays in diagnosis and treatment happen because patients are seldom seen mid-attack. “You're tired and depressed, but not in agony,” a doctor says. He proceeds by ruling out other primary head pain disorders, such as migraine, before confirming cluster headaches. A detailed history is crucial: on which side do signs occur? For how long? What time of year? Are there triggers, such as alcohol? Certain features such as redness, sagging eyelids and stuffy nose help confirm cluster headaches. Once diagnosed, patients may be sent to dedicated centers. But a lot of first arrive to A&E or are given unsuitable therapies.
A charity trustee, in her late seventies, has experienced the condition for the majority of her life, although she hasn't had an episode since recent years. When she was in her twenties, she had her teeth extracted because dentists misunderstood her pain. She believes the dental profession still need greater awareness. When another patient sought help from a support group, it was Chapman who replied. I remember calling a helpline during an attack in early 2021; a reassuring volunteer guided them through oxygen therapy and medication until the attack eased.
National guidelines on management recommend that patients are offered high-dose oxygen and/or a anti-migraine drug administered by nasal spray. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Prophylactic options include verapamil, which apparently soothes the attacks of well-known individuals.
But consultant specialists believe the official guidelines need updating to reflect a more defined clinical process and help general practitioners avoid misprescribing. For episodic patients, the treatment window is everything: “The duration of the bout dictates the approach.” Short bouts with infrequent attacks are managed with acute treatment only. Longer or more intense bouts require preventative medications such as verapamil, sometimes paired with steroids. Many patients also receive a nerve block injection during a bout – an procedure into the side of the head where the discomfort is that decreases nerve activity.
The national guidance need updating to reflect a