Excruciating Pain: A Personal Battle Against the Puzzling Suffering of Cluster Headache Syndrome
It began on a overcast weekday in the morning in September 2016. I worked as a teacher, attempting to manage a new group of students, when a sudden sensation sprang behind my right eye. Then came rapid jolts, reminiscent of electric shocks. As each class progressed, the pain eased and then returned with greater force. Four times that day I handed over a teaching assistant with activities and hurried to the staff bathroom to douse my face with cool water. I tried paracetamol, but the agony remained unbearable.
The attacks appeared repeatedly that autumn, and again in the spring, soon forming an yearly pattern. September and October were the most severe, then the late winter. I could predict the pattern: aura in the shower, early twinges on the commute, full-on agony in class by 9.30am. In 2019, a GP finally referred me to a specialist and I was diagnosed with cluster headache disorder.
Cluster headaches typically begin with severe pain behind one eye that lasts up to several hours.
About one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the condition, and males are more frequently affected. Cluster headaches usually begin with sudden, excruciating agony focused on a single eye that peaks within minutes and continues for as long as three hours. Episodes occur in cycles, daily or several times a day, and are accompanied by red or watery eyes, drooping eyelids or face perspiration. I have the episodic form, which occurs in periodic cycles; some patients have continuous attacks, characterized by the lack of extended pain-free periods.
What unites sufferers is the intensity. One research paper rated the sensation at 9.7 10, more severe than broken bones or other conditions. Another discovered a significant percentage of cluster headache patients reported suicidal thoughts amid attacks; the figure dropped to four percent when they were pain-free.
One patient, in her seventies, a long-term patient from Pembrokeshire, isn't surprised. Her attacks began when she was a toddler. “I would hurl myself on the floor and hit my head. That was attributed to being a difficult child,” she says. Her symptoms worsened through childhood. Drinking in her adolescence, similar to several triggers, made things more intense. 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 episodes. Support eventually came from her father and then from her partner, her spouse. “I was very lucky to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after relocating, but often hid her condition. She was dismissed from one job, in part due to time off during episodes. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in the early 2000s at a specialist neurology center.
Still, the inability to organize life around unpredictable attacks took its effect. She especially hated being unable to plan social events, being seen as flaky 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 simple freedoms we don't appreciate 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 across the ages. “The first account of headache comes by way of the ancient civilizations in 4000BC,” write experts in a publication on the topic. They attributed the ailment to an malevolent entity who afflicted his sufferers' heads.
Ancient healing records suggest unusual treatments for what modern observers would classify as a migraine. In the medieval times, migraine was recognised as a separate disorder, with treatments including herbal concoctions to other, more superstitious cures.
It was a European doctor who provided the first detailed description of a cluster-type attack. In his medical observations, he speaks of a patient “suffering with a very severe headache happening and disappearing each day at fixed 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 major artery which supplies blood to the head. Leading specialists in treating the condition explain this.
In the late 1990s, scientists published the results of a study for which they had induced attacks in patients and monitored the episodes in a imaging machine. The results, featured in a major medical publication, showed activation of the hypothalamus, which is responsible for human circadian rhythm, when patients were in pain, and a reduction when they felt better.
Despite such advances, identification remains slow. One man's symptoms began in 1986 and felt like “a modelling balloon being inflated behind my one eye”. Doctors thought he had a sinus issue; he underwent multiple surgeries before finally being correctly identified in recently, after a physician looked up his complaints.
Neurologists say delays in diagnosis and treatment happen because patients are seldom seen mid-attack. “You're exhausted and low, but not in severe pain,” a doctor says. He proceeds by ruling out other common headache conditions, such as tension-type headache, before diagnosing cluster headaches. A detailed patient history is crucial: on which part of the head do signs appear? For how much time? What time of year? Are there triggers, such as alcohol? Specific characteristics such as tearing, sagging eyelids and nasal congestion help confirm cluster headaches. Once identified, patients may be sent to specialist centers. But many first go to emergency rooms or are given unsuitable treatments.
Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has experienced the condition for the majority of her adult life, although she has been free from an episode since 2016. When she was in her 20s, she had her molars pulled because dentists misinterpreted her symptoms. She believes the dental profession still need greater education. When another patient sought help from a support group, it was she who replied. I remember calling a helpline during an attack in early 2021; a reassuring advisor guided them through oxygen treatment and medication until the episode eased.
Official guidance on treatment recommend that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen and/or a specific medication delivered by nasal spray. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Prophylactic options include a blood pressure medication, which apparently helps manage the bouts of some individuals.
But consultant neurologists argue the official guidelines need revising to reflect a clearer clinical pathway and help general practitioners avoid incorrect prescriptions. For episodic patients, the treatment window is critical: “The duration of the bout determines the approach.” Brief cycles with infrequent attacks are handled with abortive treatment alone. More prolonged or more intense bouts require preventative medications such as certain drugs, sometimes combined with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a nerve block injection during a cycle – an procedure into the area of the skull where the pain is that decreases nerve activity.
The national guidance need updating to reflect a