Unbearable Pain: A Personal Struggle With the Enigmatic Pain of Cluster Headache Syndrome
It began on a overcast Monday in the morning in September 2016. I was working as a educator, attempting to manage a new class, when a sharp pain bloomed behind my right eye. This was followed by rapid stabs, reminiscent of electric shocks. As each class progressed, the discomfort eased and then returned with increased force. Four times that day I left a teaching assistant with worksheets and hurried to the staff bathroom to soak my face with cold water. I took ibuprofen, but the agony remained unrelenting.
The attacks appeared frequently that autumn, and again in spring, soon forming an annual pattern. The autumn months were the most severe, then the late winter. I could anticipate the pattern: aura in the shower, early pangs on the commute, full-blown agony in the classroom by mid-morning. In 2019, a doctor finally sent me to a neurologist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headaches.
Cluster headaches often begin with severe discomfort behind a single eye that lasts up to three hours.
Approximately one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the disorder, and men are more often affected. Attacks typically begin with sudden, excruciating agony focused on one eye that reaches its peak within a short time and continues for as long as three hours. Episodes come in clusters, every day or multiple times a day, and are accompanied by red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or facial sweating. There exists an episodic type, which arrives in periodic cycles; some patients have chronic cluster headaches, characterized by the lack of extended pain-free periods.
What unites sufferers is the intensity. One study scored the pain at 9.7 10, higher than bone fractures or other conditions. A separate found a significant percentage of cluster patients experienced thoughts of self-harm amid attacks; the figure dropped to 4% when they were pain-free.
One patient, in her seventies, a chronic sufferer from Wales, isn't surprised. Her episodes began when she was a toddler. “I would throw myself on the floor and bang my head. That was put down to being spoiled,” she says. Her symptoms deteriorated through childhood. Drinking in her adolescence, like many triggers, made things worse. After drinking sherry at her school leaving party, she recalls barely being able to see on the bus home.
Her relatives often mistook her episodes as drunken episodes. Support finally came from her father and then from her husband, 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 absences during episodes. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in 2002 at a national hospital.
Still, the inability to organize life around erratic attacks took its toll. She particularly hated 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 paralysis caused by the most severe episodes. “It robs you of the small liberties we don't appreciate until they're gone,” she says. She recalls winning tickets for a significant concert, only to have an episode inside a portable toilet.
Headaches have been documented throughout the ages. “The first description of headache originates from the ancient civilizations in antiquity,” write experts in a publication on the topic. They attributed the ailment to an evil spirit who attacked his victims' heads.
Ancient medical texts propose unusual remedies for what modern observers would classify as a migraine. In the middle ages, migraine was identified as a distinct disorder, with therapies ranging from herbal concoctions to other, more folk remedies.
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 intense headache happening and disappearing daily at specific hours”.
Cluster headaches were only formally recognised by international medical societies in the late 1980s. From the mid-20th century to the 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a problem with a key blood vessel that delivers blood to the brain. Leading experts in treating the disorder explain this.
In 1998, researchers published the results of a research project 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 hypothalamus, which is responsible for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in pain, and a deactivation when they recovered.
In spite of such advances, identification remains delayed. Jamie Charteris's attacks started in 1986 and felt like “a modelling balloon being inflated behind my left eye”. Doctors thought he had a sinus issue; he had four surgeries before finally being correctly identified in 2014, after a physician looked up his complaints.
Neurologists say delays in diagnosis and managing happen because patients are seldom seen mid-attack. “You're tired and depressed, but not in severe pain,” one says. He proceeds by eliminating other common headache conditions, such as migraine, before confirming the disorder. A thorough history is essential: on which part of the head do signs appear? For how much time? What season? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Certain features such as redness, drooping eyelids and nasal congestion help verify the diagnosis. Once identified, patients may be referred to specialist clinics. But many first arrive to A&E or are given inadequate treatments.
A charity trustee, in her late seventies, has experienced the condition for the majority of her adult life, although she has been free from an attack since 2016. When she was in her twenties, she had her molars pulled because dental professionals misinterpreted her symptoms. She believes the dental profession still need much more awareness. When a sufferer sought help from a charity, it was Chapman who replied. I remember calling a helpline during an bout in 2021; a reassuring advisor guided me through oxygen therapy and medication until the attack eased.
Official guidelines on management advise that patients are offered high-dose oxygen and/or a anti-migraine drug administered by injection. No tablets or opioids should be used. Prophylactic options include a blood pressure medication, which apparently helps manage the attacks of well-known individuals.
But consultant neurologists believe the guidance need revising to reflect a clearer clinical process and help GPs avoid misprescribing. For periodic patients, the treatment window is everything: “The duration of the cycle dictates the approach.” Short bouts with infrequent attacks are handled with acute therapy alone. Longer or more severe bouts require preventative medications such as certain drugs, sometimes paired with corticosteroids. A significant number of patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a bout – an injection into the side of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve activity.
The official guidelines need revising to reflect a