Full-Blown Suffering: My Fight Against the Puzzling Suffering of Cluster Headaches
It began on a dreary Monday morning in September 2016. I was working as a teacher, trying to settle a new group of students, when a intense pain erupted behind my right eye. This was followed by quick shocks, similar to lightning bolts. As each class progressed, the discomfort eased and then came back with increased force. Multiple times that day I left a teaching assistant with worksheets and ran to the school bathroom to douse my face with cold water. I took paracetamol, but the pain remained unrelenting.
The headaches returned repeatedly that fall, and again in the spring, soon establishing an yearly pattern. September and October were the worst, then February and March. I could predict the routine: aura in the shower, early pangs on the commute, full-blown pain in class by 9.30am. In late 2019, a doctor eventually referred me to a specialist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headache disorder.
This condition often start with severe pain around a single eye that lasts up to several hours.
Approximately 1 in 1000 individuals are affected by the disorder, and men are more frequently affected. Attacks usually begin with sudden, excruciating agony focused on a single eye that reaches its peak within minutes and continues for up to three hours. Attacks come in clusters, every day or several times a day, and are accompanied by red or watery eyes, drooping eyelids or facial perspiration. I have an episodic type, which arrives in seasonal cycles; some patients have chronic attacks, characterized by the absence of long pain-free periods.
What connects patients is the severity. One research paper rated the sensation at 9.7 10, higher than bone fractures or other conditions. Another discovered 64% of cluster headache patients experienced thoughts of self-harm during attacks; the figure dropped to four percent when they were pain-free.
Val Hobbs, in her seventies, a chronic patient from Pembrokeshire, isn't surprised. Her episodes began when she was two. “I would hurl myself on the floor and bang my head. That was put down to being a difficult child,” she says. Her condition worsened through her youth. Alcohol in her teens, like many triggers, made things more intense. After drinking sherry at her graduation party, she remembers hardly being able to see on the bus home.
Her family often interpreted her episodes as intoxicated episodes. Understanding finally came from her parent and then from her husband, her spouse. “I was very lucky to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs found clerical work after moving, but often hid her illness. She was dismissed from one job, in part due to absences during attacks. Her breakthrough identification came in 2002 at a specialist neurology center.
Nevertheless, the inability to plan daily activities around erratic attacks took its effect. She especially disliked being unable to plan outings, being seen as unreliable as a colleague, and even having to be cared for by her family during the incapacitation caused by the worst episodes. “It robs you of the simple freedoms 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 the ages. “The first description of headache comes by way of the ancient civilizations in 4000BC,” write authors in a publication on the subject. They attributed the ailment to an malevolent entity who attacked his sufferers' heads.
Ancient healing texts suggest unusual treatments for what modern observers would classify as a migraine. In the middle ages, severe headache was identified as a separate condition, with therapies ranging from bloodletting to other, more superstitious remedies.
It was a European physician who provided the initial detailed description of a cluster headache. In his writings, he speaks of a patient “suffering with a very severe headache happening and vanishing each day at specific hours”.
The disorder were only formally recognised by global headache societies in the late 1980s. From the 1960s to the 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a issue with a key artery which supplies blood to the brain. Leading experts in diagnosing the disorder note this.
In the late 1990s, researchers published the findings of a research project for which they had triggered attacks in patients and monitored the attacks in a brain scanner. The results, published in a major medical publication, showed increased activity of the a brain region, which is in charge for human circadian rhythm, when patients were in discomfort, and a deactivation when they felt better.
In spite of such advances, diagnosis remains slow. Jamie Charteris's attacks started in 1986 and felt like “a modelling balloon being inflated behind my one eye”. GPs thought he had sinus problems; he had four surgeries before finally being diagnosed in recently, after a doctor looked up his symptoms.
Specialists say wait times in diagnosis and managing happen because patients are rarely seen during an episode. “You're tired and low, but not in severe pain,” one says. He proceeds by ruling out other common headache conditions, such as tension-type headache, before diagnosing the disorder. A detailed history is essential: on which part of the head do signs appear? For how much time? What season? Are there triggers, such as certain foods? Specific characteristics such as redness, sagging eyelids and stuffy nose help verify cluster headaches. Once diagnosed, patients may be sent to specialist centers. But many first arrive to A&E or are given unsuitable therapies.
Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has experienced cluster headaches for the majority of her adult life, although she hasn't had an episode since 2016. When she was in her 20s, she had her teeth extracted because dentists misunderstood her symptoms. She thinks dentists still need greater education. When another patient sought help from a charity, it was Chapman who responded. I remember calling a helpline during an bout in early 2021; a reassuring volunteer guided them through oxygen therapy and drugs until the attack passed.
Official guidelines on treatment advise that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen and/or a specific medication administered by injection. No oral painkillers or opioids should be used. Prophylactic options include a blood pressure medication, which reportedly helps manage the attacks of well-known people.
But consultant neurologists believe the official guidelines need updating to reflect a clearer treatment pathway and help general practitioners avoid incorrect prescriptions. For episodic patients, timing is critical: “The length of the bout dictates the approach.” Short cycles with occasional attacks are managed with acute therapy alone. More prolonged or more severe bouts require preventives such as verapamil, sometimes combined with corticosteroids. A significant number of patients also receive a nerve block injection during a cycle – an procedure into the area of the head where the discomfort is that reduces nerve signals.
The official guidance need updating to reflect a