Full-Blown Agony: A Personal Struggle With the Enigmatic Suffering of Cluster Headache Syndrome

It began on a gloomy weekday in the morning in September 2016. I worked as a educator, attempting to manage a new group of students, when a sharp pain erupted behind my right eye. This was followed by quick shocks, similar to lightning bolts. As each class came and went, the pain subsided and then returned with greater force. Four times that day I handed over a teaching assistant with worksheets and ran to the staff bathroom to douse my face with cool water. I tried aspirin, but the pain remained unbearable.

The attacks appeared frequently that fall, and once more in spring, soon forming an annual cycle. September and October were the worst, then the late winter. I could anticipate the routine: a warning sensation in the morning, early twinges on the commute, full-blown pain in the classroom by mid-morning. In 2019, a doctor finally referred me to a neurologist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headache disorder.

This condition typically start with intense pain behind a single eye that persists up to several hours.

Approximately one in 1,000 individuals are affected by the disorder, and men are more often diagnosed. Cluster headaches typically start with sudden, severe agony around one eye that reaches its peak within minutes and continues for as long as three hours. Episodes come in clusters, daily or several times a day, and are accompanied by tearing eyes, drooping eyelids or facial sweating. I have the episodic form, which occurs in periodic cycles; some patients have chronic attacks, characterized by the lack of long symptom-free periods.

What connects sufferers is the intensity. One research paper rated the sensation at 9.7 10, more severe than broken bones or other conditions. A separate discovered a significant percentage of cluster headache patients experienced thoughts of self-harm during bouts; the figure fell to 4% when they were pain-free.

Val Hobbs, 74, 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 worsened through childhood. Drinking in her teens, similar to several causes, made things worse. After having sherry at her school leaving party, she remembers hardly being able to see on the bus home.

Her relatives often mistook her attacks as intoxicated episodes. Support finally came from her parent and then from her partner, her spouse. “I was very lucky to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after relocating, but often concealed her illness. She was dismissed from one job, in part due to time off during attacks. Her definitive identification came in the early 2000s at a national neurology center.

Still, the inability to organize life around unpredictable attacks took its effect. She especially 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 winning tickets for a major concert, only to have an episode inside a portable toilet.


Headaches have been documented throughout the ages. “The first account of headache comes by way of the Mesopotamians in antiquity,” write experts in a publication on the topic. They attributed the ailment to an evil entity who attacked his sufferers' heads.

Ancient medical texts propose bizarre treatments for what some observers would describe as a headache disorder. In the middle ages, migraine was recognised as a distinct condition, with treatments ranging from herbal concoctions to other, more superstitious cures.

It was a European doctor who provided the initial comprehensive account of a cluster-type attack. In his medical observations, he speaks of a patient “afflicted with a very intense headache happening and disappearing each day at fixed hours”.

The disorder were only officially recognised by global medical committees in the late 1980s. From the 1960s to the 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a issue with a major blood vessel which delivers blood to the head. Leading specialists in treating the condition explain this.

In the late 1990s, scientists published the findings of a study for which they had induced attacks in patients and monitored the episodes in a brain scanner. The results, featured in a prominent journal, showed increased activity of the hypothalamus, which is responsible for human circadian rhythm, when patients were in pain, and a reduction when they recovered.

Despite such advances, identification remains delayed. One man's attacks started in 1986 and felt like “a balloon being blown up behind my left eye”. GPs thought he had sinus problems; he underwent four surgeries before eventually being diagnosed in 2014, after a doctor researched his symptoms.

Specialists say delays in diagnosing and treatment occur because patients are seldom seen during an episode. “You're tired and low, but not in agony,” one says. He works by eliminating other primary head pain conditions, such as tension-type headache, before diagnosing cluster headaches. A detailed history is essential: on which part of the head do symptoms appear? For how much time? What time of year? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Specific characteristics such as tearing, drooping eyelids and stuffy nose help verify the diagnosis. Once diagnosed, patients may be sent to dedicated clinics. But many first go to emergency rooms or are given inadequate therapies.

A charity trustee, in her late seventies, has experienced cluster headaches for the majority of her life, although she has been free from an episode since recent years. When she was in her 20s, she had her teeth pulled because dentists misinterpreted her pain. She believes the dental profession still need much more education. When another patient sought help from a charity, it was Chapman who responded. I remember calling a support line during an attack in early 2021; a reassuring advisor talked me through oxygen treatment and drugs until the attack passed.

National guidelines on management recommend that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen therapy and/or a anti-migraine medication administered by nasal spray. No oral painkillers or opioids should be used. Prophylactic choices include verapamil, which apparently helps manage the attacks of some people.

But consultant specialists argue the official guidelines need updating to reflect a more defined treatment process and help general practitioners avoid misprescribing. For episodic patients, the treatment window is critical: “The length of the bout determines the treatment.” Brief bouts with occasional attacks are managed with abortive treatment alone. More prolonged or more severe periods require preventives such as certain drugs, sometimes combined with corticosteroids. A significant number of patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a bout – an procedure into the area of the head where the pain is that decreases nerve signals.

The official guidelines need updating to reflect a
Kristy Price
Kristy Price

A tech enthusiast and digital strategist with over a decade of experience in analyzing emerging technologies and their impact on society.