Excruciating Suffering: A Personal Battle With the Enigmatic Suffering of Cluster Headaches

It began on a dreary weekday morning in September 2016. I worked as a educator, attempting to manage a new group of students, when a sudden pain sprang behind my one eye. Then came quick jolts, reminiscent of lightning bolts. As each class progressed, the discomfort eased and then came back with increased force. Four times that day I left a colleague with activities and hurried to the staff bathroom to soak my face with cold water. I tried paracetamol, but the agony remained unbearable.

The headaches returned frequently that fall, and again in the spring, soon establishing an yearly cycle. The autumn months were the worst, then the late winter. I could predict the pattern: a warning sensation in the shower, early pangs on the commute, full-on agony in class by 9.30am. In 2019, a doctor finally referred me to a specialist and I was diagnosed with cluster headache disorder.

Cluster headaches typically start with intense pain behind one eye that lasts up to several hours.

About 1 in 1000 people suffer by the disorder, and men are more often diagnosed. Cluster headaches typically begin with abrupt, excruciating pain focused on a single eye that reaches its peak within a short time and lasts for as long as three hours. Episodes come in clusters, every day or multiple times a day, and are associated with red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or face sweating. I have an episodic type, which arrives in periodic bouts; others have continuous cluster headaches, characterized by the lack of long symptom-free periods.

What connects sufferers is the intensity. One study scored the sensation at 9.7 10, more severe than broken bones or other conditions. A separate discovered a significant percentage of cluster headache patients reported thoughts of self-harm during attacks; the number dropped to four percent when they were not in pain.

Val Hobbs, in her seventies, a chronic sufferer from Pembrokeshire, finds this understandable. Her episodes began when she was a toddler. “I would throw myself on the ground and hit my head. That was put down to being a difficult child,” she says. Her condition worsened through childhood. Alcohol in her teens, like several triggers, made things worse. After having alcohol at her graduation party, she recalls barely being able to see on the bus home.

Her relatives often mistook her episodes as intoxicated episodes. Support finally came from her father and then from her husband, her spouse. “I was very lucky to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after moving, but often concealed her condition. She was fired from one job, in part due to time off during attacks. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in the early 2000s at a specialist hospital.

Nevertheless, the inability to plan daily activities around unpredictable pain took its toll. She especially disliked being unable to plan social events, being seen as flaky as a co-worker, and even having to be cared for by her family during the paralysis caused by the worst episodes. “It robs you of the simple liberties we don't appreciate until they're gone,” she says. She recalls obtaining tickets for a significant concert, only to have an episode inside a portable toilet.


Headaches have been documented throughout history. “The earliest account of headache originates from the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write experts in a publication on the subject. They linked the ailment to an malevolent entity who attacked his sufferers' heads.

Historical healing records propose bizarre treatments for what modern observers would classify as a headache disorder. In the middle ages, migraine was recognised as a distinct condition, with treatments including bloodletting to other, more superstitious cures.

It was a Dutch doctor who provided the first comprehensive account of a cluster headache. In his writings, he describes a patient “afflicted with a very intense headache occurring and disappearing daily at specific hours”.

The disorder were only officially classified by global headache societies in the late 1980s. From the mid-20th century to the late 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a issue with a major artery that delivers blood to the head. Prominent experts in treating the disorder note this.

In 1998, researchers published the findings of a research project for which they had triggered attacks in patients and monitored the attacks in a imaging machine. The results, featured in a prominent journal, showed increased activity of the a brain region, which is responsible for human circadian rhythm, when patients were in pain, and a deactivation when they recovered.

In spite of such progress, identification remains slow. One man's symptoms began in 1986 and felt like “a balloon being blown up behind my one eye”. Doctors thought he had sinus problems; he had four operations before eventually being correctly identified in 2014, after a doctor looked up his symptoms.

Neurologists say wait times in diagnosis and managing happen because patients are rarely seen during an episode. “You're exhausted and low, but not in agony,” one says. He works by ruling out other primary headache disorders, such as migraine, before diagnosing the disorder. A thorough patient history is essential: on which side do signs appear? For how long? What season? Are there triggers, such as certain foods? Specific characteristics such as tearing, sagging eyelids and stuffy nose help verify the diagnosis. Once diagnosed, patients may be sent to specialist clinics. But a lot of first go to emergency rooms or are given unsuitable treatments.

A charity trustee, 78, has suffered from the condition for the majority of her adult life, although she has been free from an episode since recent years. When she was in her 20s, she had her molars pulled because dentists misinterpreted her pain. She thinks the dental profession still need greater awareness. When another patient sought help from a support group, it was she who replied. The author recalls calling a helpline during an attack in early 2021; a calm advisor talked me through oxygen therapy and drugs until the episode passed.

National guidelines on management advise that patients are offered high-flow oxygen and/or a specific drug administered by nasal spray. No oral painkillers or opioids should be used. Preventive choices include verapamil, which apparently helps manage the attacks of well-known people.

But leading neurologists argue the guidance need revising to reflect a clearer treatment process and help general practitioners avoid incorrect prescriptions. For periodic patients, the treatment window is critical: “The duration of the cycle dictates the approach.” Short cycles with occasional attacks are handled with abortive therapy alone. Longer or more severe bouts require preventives such as certain drugs, sometimes combined with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a cycle – an injection into the side of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve signals.

The official guidelines need updating to reflect a
Amy Vang
Amy Vang

A technology strategist with over a decade of experience in IT consulting and digital transformation for SMEs across various industries.