Full-Blown Agony: A Personal Fight Against the Puzzling Suffering of Cluster Headache Syndrome

It began on a dreary Monday morning in the autumn of 2016. I was working as a educator, attempting to manage a new group of students, when a sudden sensation sprang behind my right eye. This was followed by quick shocks, like electric shocks. As the school day progressed, the discomfort subsided and then came back with increased intensity. Four times that day I handed over a colleague with activities and ran to the school bathroom to douse my face with cool water. I tried paracetamol, but the agony remained unbearable.

The headaches appeared frequently that fall, and again in the spring, soon establishing an yearly pattern. September and October were the worst, then the late winter. I could anticipate the routine: aura in the shower, early twinges on the commute, full-blown pain in class by 9.30am. In 2019, a GP finally referred me to a neurologist and I was diagnosed with cluster headache disorder.

This condition often start with intense discomfort around one eye that lasts for several hours.

Approximately one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the disorder, and men are more frequently diagnosed. Attacks typically start with abrupt, excruciating agony around one eye that peaks within a short time and continues for as long as three hours. Attacks come in clusters, daily or multiple times a day, and are associated with red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or facial perspiration. There exists the episodic form, which occurs in seasonal bouts; some patients have chronic attacks, defined by the absence of extended pain-free periods.

What connects sufferers is the severity. One research paper scored the pain at 9.7 out of 10, more severe than bone fractures or pancreatitis. Another discovered a significant percentage of cluster patients reported thoughts of self-harm amid attacks; the number fell to 4% when they were not in pain.

Val Hobbs, 74, a chronic patient from Pembrokeshire, isn't surprised. Her episodes began when she was a toddler. “I would throw myself on the floor and hit my head. That was put down to being a difficult child,” she says. Her symptoms worsened through childhood. Drinking in her adolescence, like many causes, made things worse. After drinking alcohol at her school leaving party, she recalls hardly being able to see on the transport home.

Her relatives often interpreted her episodes as intoxicated behavior. Support eventually came from her father and then from her partner, Rod. “I was very lucky to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs found clerical work after relocating, but often concealed her illness. She was fired from one job, partly due to time off during episodes. Her definitive identification came in the early 2000s at a specialist hospital.

Still, the inability to organize life around unpredictable attacks took its toll. She especially hated being unable to plan outings, being seen as unreliable as a colleague, and even having to be cared for by her children during the paralysis caused by the most severe episodes. “It robs 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 episode inside a facility.


Headaches have been documented throughout the ages. “The first description of headache comes by way of the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write authors in a book on the topic. They attributed the disease to an evil spirit who afflicted his victims' heads.

Historical healing records propose unusual remedies for what modern experts would describe as a headache disorder. In the medieval times, migraine was recognised as a separate disorder, with treatments including herbal concoctions to other, more superstitious cures.

It was a Dutch physician who provided the first detailed description of a cluster headache. In his medical observations, he speaks of a patient “suffering with a very severe headache happening and vanishing daily at fixed hours”.

Cluster headaches were only formally recognised by international medical societies in 1988. From the mid-20th century to the late 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a issue with a major artery which supplies blood to the head. Leading specialists in diagnosing the disorder explain this.

In the late 1990s, researchers released the results of a study for which they had induced attacks in patients and monitored the attacks in a brain scanner. The results, featured 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 deactivation when they recovered.

In spite of such advances, identification remains slow. Jamie Charteris's attacks started in the 1980s and felt like “a modelling balloon being blown up behind my left eye”. GPs thought he had sinus problems; he underwent four operations before finally being diagnosed in 2014, after a physician looked up his symptoms.

Neurologists say wait times in diagnosis and treatment happen because patients are seldom seen during an episode. “You're exhausted and low, but not in agony,” a doctor says. He proceeds by eliminating other primary headache disorders, such as tension-type headache, before confirming the disorder. A thorough patient history is crucial: on which part of the head do symptoms appear? For how much time? What time of year? Are there triggers, such as certain foods? Certain characteristics such as tearing, drooping eyelids and stuffy nose help verify cluster headaches. Once identified, patients may be referred to dedicated clinics. But a lot of first arrive to A&E or are given unsuitable treatments.

Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has suffered from the condition 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 dental professionals misinterpreted her pain. She thinks dentists still need greater education. When a sufferer sought help from a charity, it was she who responded. I remember calling a helpline during an attack in early 2021; a reassuring advisor talked them through oxygen therapy and drugs until the attack passed.

National guidance on management recommend that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen and/or a specific drug administered by nasal spray. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Prophylactic options include a blood pressure medication, which apparently helps manage the attacks of some people.

But consultant neurologists argue the official guidelines need updating to reflect a more defined clinical pathway and help GPs avoid misprescribing. For episodic patients, the treatment window is critical: “The duration of the bout dictates the treatment.” Brief cycles with occasional episodes are managed with acute therapy only. Longer 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 bout – an injection into the side of the head where the discomfort is that decreases nerve signals.

The national guidance need updating to reflect a
Diamond Lewis
Diamond Lewis

Liam is a financial analyst and writer with over a decade of experience in investment banking. He simplifies complex finance topics for everyday readers.