Unbearable Agony: My Struggle Against the Mysterious Suffering of Cluster Headache Syndrome

It was a dreary weekday in the morning in the autumn of 2016. I was working as a teacher, attempting to manage a new class, when a intense pain sprang behind my right eye. Then came quick shocks, like lightning bolts. As the school day came and went, the pain eased and then came back with greater force. Four times that day I handed over a colleague with activities and hurried to the staff bathroom to douse my face with cool water. I tried ibuprofen, but the agony remained unrelenting.

The headaches appeared repeatedly that autumn, and once more in spring, soon establishing an annual cycle. The autumn months were the worst, then February and March. I could anticipate the routine: aura in the morning, early twinges on the train, full-blown agony in the classroom by 9.30am. In late 2019, a doctor eventually referred me to a specialist and I was diagnosed with cluster headaches.

This condition typically begin with severe pain behind a single eye that lasts for three hours.

Approximately 1 in 1000 individuals suffer by the condition, and men are more often affected. Cluster headaches usually start with sudden, excruciating agony around a single eye that reaches its peak within a short time and continues for up to three hours. Attacks occur in cycles, every day or several times a day, and are associated with red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or facial sweating. I have an episodic type, which occurs in periodic bouts; others have chronic attacks, defined by the absence of extended symptom-free periods.

What unites sufferers is the intensity. One research paper rated the pain at 9.7 out of 10, higher than broken bones or pancreatitis. Another discovered a significant percentage of cluster headache patients experienced suicidal thoughts amid bouts; the figure fell to 4% when they were not in pain.

One patient, in her seventies, a long-term patient from Pembrokeshire, isn't surprised. Her attacks began when she was two. “I would hurl myself on the ground and bang my head. That was put down to being spoiled,” she says. Her condition worsened through her youth. Drinking in her teens, similar to many triggers, made things more intense. After drinking sherry at her school leaving party, she remembers barely being able to see on the transport home.

Her relatives often mistook her attacks as drunken behavior. Understanding finally came from her parent and then from her partner, Rod. “I was very fortunate to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after relocating, but often concealed her illness. She was dismissed from one job, partly due to absences during attacks. Her breakthrough identification came in 2002 at a specialist hospital.

Still, the failure to plan daily activities around unpredictable pain took its effect. She particularly hated being unable to plan outings, being seen as flaky 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 simple liberties we don't appreciate until they're gone,” she says. She remembers obtaining tickets for a significant concert, only to have an attack inside a facility.


Headaches have been documented across the ages. “The first description of headache originates from the Mesopotamians in antiquity,” write authors in a book on the subject. They attributed the ailment to an malevolent entity who afflicted his sufferers' heads.

Ancient medical texts suggest unusual remedies for what some experts would classify as a headache disorder. In the middle ages, migraine was identified as a separate condition, with therapies ranging from bloodletting to other, more superstitious remedies.

It was a European physician who provided the first detailed account of a cluster headache. In his writings, he speaks of a patient “suffering with a very intense headache happening and disappearing daily at fixed hours”.

The disorder were only formally recognised by international headache committees in the late 1980s. From the mid-20th century to the late 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a problem with a key artery which delivers blood to the brain. Leading experts in treating the condition note this.

In 1998, scientists published the findings of a research project for which they had induced attacks in patients and monitored the attacks in a imaging machine. The data, published in a major medical publication, showed activation of the hypothalamus, which is responsible for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in discomfort, and a reduction when they felt better.

Despite such advances, diagnosis remains delayed. Jamie Charteris's attacks began in 1986 and felt like “a modelling balloon being inflated behind my one eye”. Doctors thought he had a sinus issue; he underwent four surgeries before eventually being diagnosed in recently, after a physician researched his symptoms.

Specialists say wait times in diagnosing and treatment happen because patients are rarely seen during an episode. “You're exhausted and depressed, but not in agony,” one says. He proceeds by ruling out other common headache disorders, such as tension-type headache, before diagnosing the disorder. A detailed history is essential: on which part of the head do symptoms appear? For how long? What time of year? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Certain characteristics such as redness, drooping eyelids and nasal congestion help confirm the diagnosis. Once identified, patients may be referred to dedicated clinics. But many first go to A&E or are given inadequate therapies.

Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has experienced the condition for most of her life, although she has been free from an attack since 2016. When she was in her 20s, she had her molars pulled because dental professionals misunderstood her pain. She believes the dental profession still need much more awareness. When another patient sought help from a charity, it was Chapman who responded. The author recalls calling a support line during an attack in 2021; a calm advisor talked me through oxygen treatment and medication until the attack eased.

Official guidance on treatment recommend that patients are offered high-flow oxygen and/or a anti-migraine drug delivered by nasal spray. No oral painkillers or opioids should be used. Prophylactic options include verapamil, which apparently soothes the attacks of some people.

But consultant neurologists believe the official guidelines need updating to reflect a more defined clinical process and help general practitioners avoid incorrect prescriptions. For episodic patients, timing is critical: “The duration of the cycle dictates the treatment.” Brief cycles with infrequent episodes are handled with acute therapy alone. More prolonged or more severe periods require preventives such as certain drugs, sometimes combined with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a nerve block injection during a cycle – an injection into the side of the skull where the pain is that decreases nerve activity.

The national guidelines need revising to reflect a
Carrie Clark
Carrie Clark

Eva is een ervaren digital marketeer en contentstrateeg, gespecialiseerd in het vertalen van complexe technologie naar praktische bedrijfsstrategieën.