Unbearable Agony: A Personal Fight With the Mysterious Pain of Cluster Headaches
It began on a overcast Monday in the morning in the autumn of 2016. I was working as a educator, trying to settle a new group of students, when a sudden pain sprang behind my right eye. This was followed by quick jolts, reminiscent of lightning bolts. As each class came and went, the pain subsided and then returned with increased intensity. Multiple times that day I left a teaching assistant with worksheets and hurried to the school bathroom to soak my face with cool water. I tried aspirin, but the agony remained unbearable.
The attacks appeared repeatedly that fall, and again in spring, soon forming an yearly cycle. September and October were the most severe, then February and March. I could anticipate the pattern: aura in the morning, early twinges on the commute, full-on agony in the classroom by mid-morning. In 2019, a GP finally referred me to a specialist and I was diagnosed with cluster headaches.
Cluster headaches typically begin with intense pain around one eye that persists for several hours.
Approximately 1 in 1000 people are affected by the condition, and men are more often diagnosed. Attacks typically start with abrupt, excruciating agony around one eye that peaks within minutes and lasts for as long as three hours. Episodes come in clusters, daily or multiple times a day, and are associated with red or watery eyes, drooping eyelids or facial sweating. I have the episodic form, which arrives in periodic cycles; others have continuous cluster headaches, characterized by the lack of extended pain-free periods.
What unites patients is the intensity. One research paper scored the sensation at 9.7 10, higher than bone fractures or pancreatitis. A separate found a significant percentage of cluster headache patients reported suicidal thoughts during attacks; the figure fell to four percent when they were pain-free.
One patient, 74, a long-term sufferer from Wales, finds this understandable. Her episodes began when she was two. “I would throw myself on the ground and hit my head. That was put down to being spoiled,” she says. Her symptoms worsened through her youth. Alcohol in her teens, 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 interpreted her attacks as drunken episodes. Support finally came from her father and then from her husband, Rod. “I was very fortunate to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after moving, but often hid her illness. She was fired from one job, in part due to absences during episodes. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in the early 2000s at a national neurology center.
Still, the inability to organize life around unpredictable attacks took its toll. She particularly hated being unable to plan outings, being seen as unreliable as a colleague, and even having to be looked after by her children during the incapacitation caused by the worst episodes. “It steals from you of the small freedoms we don't appreciate until they're gone,” she says. She recalls obtaining tickets for a significant concert, only to have an episode inside a facility.
Headaches have been described across the ages. “The earliest description of headache comes by way of the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write experts in a book on the subject. They attributed the disease to an malevolent entity who attacked his sufferers' heads.
Historical healing texts propose unusual remedies for what some observers would describe as a migraine. In the medieval times, severe headache was recognised as a distinct disorder, with treatments ranging from bloodletting to other, more superstitious cures.
It was a European doctor who provided the first comprehensive description of a cluster headache. In his writings, he speaks of a patient “afflicted with a very intense headache happening and disappearing daily at fixed hours”.
Cluster headaches were only officially classified by international headache committees in 1988. From the 1960s to the late 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a problem with a key blood vessel which supplies blood to the head. Prominent specialists in diagnosing the condition note this.
In 1998, researchers published the findings of a research project for which they had triggered attacks in patients and observed the episodes in a brain scanner. The results, published in a major journal, showed increased activity of the a brain region, which is responsible for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in discomfort, and a reduction when they recovered.
In spite of such progress, diagnosis remains slow. Jamie Charteris's attacks began in the 1980s and felt like “a modelling balloon being inflated behind my left eye”. GPs thought he had a sinus issue; he underwent four surgeries before eventually being correctly identified in 2014, after a physician researched his symptoms.
Specialists say delays in diagnosing and managing occur because patients are rarely seen during an episode. “You're exhausted and low, but not in agony,” a doctor says. He works by ruling out other common headache conditions, such as migraine, before confirming the disorder. A thorough patient history is crucial: on which part of the head do symptoms appear? For how long? What season? Are there triggers, such as certain foods? Certain characteristics such as redness, drooping eyelids and nasal congestion help verify the diagnosis. Once identified, patients may be referred to specialist centers. But a lot of first go to A&E or are given inadequate therapies.
Dorothy Chapman, 78, has experienced the condition for the majority of her adult life, although she hasn't had an attack since 2016. When she was in her twenties, she had her teeth pulled because dental professionals misinterpreted her symptoms. She believes the dental profession still need greater education. When a sufferer sought help from a support group, it was Chapman who replied. I remember calling a helpline during an attack in early 2021; a calm advisor talked me through oxygen treatment 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 opioids should be used. Preventive choices include a blood pressure medication, which apparently helps manage the bouts of some people.
But leading neurologists believe the official guidelines need revising to reflect a clearer treatment process and help GPs avoid misprescribing. For episodic patients, timing is critical: “The length of the bout determines the approach.” Brief cycles with infrequent episodes are handled with acute therapy alone. More prolonged or more intense bouts require preventives such as verapamil, sometimes paired with steroids. Many patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a bout – an procedure into the area of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve activity.
The national guidelines need revising to reflect a