Full-Blown Agony: A Personal Battle Against the Mysterious Suffering of Cluster Headaches

It was a dreary weekday morning in September 2016. I was working as a teacher, trying to settle a new group of students, when a sharp pain bloomed behind my one eye. It was followed by rapid shocks, reminiscent of lightning bolts. As the school day progressed, the pain subsided and then returned with increased force. Multiple 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 aspirin, but the agony remained unrelenting.

The headaches appeared frequently that autumn, and again in spring, soon establishing an yearly cycle. The autumn months were the most severe, then February and March. I could anticipate the routine: aura in the shower, early pangs on the commute, full-blown pain in class by 9.30am. In 2019, a GP finally referred me to a neurologist and I was diagnosed with cluster headaches.

This condition typically start with severe discomfort behind a single eye that persists up to three hours.

Approximately 1 in 1000 individuals are affected by the disorder, and males are more often diagnosed. Cluster headaches typically begin with sudden, excruciating agony focused on a single eye that reaches its peak within minutes and lasts for as long as three hours. Attacks come in clusters, every day or several times a day, and are accompanied by tearing eyes, drooping eyelids or face perspiration. There exists the episodic form, which occurs in periodic bouts; others have chronic cluster headaches, characterized by the absence of long pain-free periods.

What connects patients is the intensity. One study scored the sensation at 9.7 10, more severe than broken bones or pancreatitis. Another found 64% of cluster headache patients experienced thoughts of self-harm during attacks; the figure dropped to four percent when they were not in pain.

Val Hobbs, 74, a chronic sufferer from Wales, isn't surprised. Her episodes started when she was two. “I would throw myself on the floor and hit my head. That was put down to being a difficult child,” she says. Her symptoms deteriorated through childhood. Drinking in her adolescence, like several causes, made things more intense. After having sherry at her school leaving party, she remembers barely being able to see on the bus home.

Her family often mistook her episodes as intoxicated episodes. Support finally came from her parent and then from her partner, Rod. “I was very fortunate to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs found clerical work after relocating, but often concealed her condition. She was fired from one job, partly due to absences during episodes. Her breakthrough identification came in 2002 at a specialist neurology center.

Nevertheless, the inability to organize daily activities around erratic pain took its toll. She especially hated 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 most severe episodes. “It robs you of the small liberties we don't appreciate 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 history. “The earliest account of headache originates from the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write experts in a book on the topic. They linked the disease to an evil spirit who afflicted his sufferers' heads.

Ancient healing records propose bizarre treatments for what modern observers would describe as a headache disorder. In the middle ages, migraine was identified as a separate disorder, with therapies ranging from bloodletting to other, more superstitious cures.

It was a Dutch physician who provided the initial detailed description of a cluster-type attack. In his medical observations, he describes a patient “suffering with a very severe headache occurring and disappearing daily at specific hours”.

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

In the late 1990s, scientists published the findings of a research project for which they had triggered cluster headaches in patients and observed the attacks in a imaging machine. The results, featured in a major medical publication, showed increased activity of the a brain region, which is responsible for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in pain, and a reduction when they recovered.

Despite such advances, identification remains slow. Jamie Charteris's symptoms started in the 1980s and felt like “a modelling balloon being inflated behind my one eye”. GPs thought he had a sinus issue; he underwent multiple operations before finally being diagnosed in 2014, after a doctor researched his symptoms.

Specialists say delays in diagnosing and treatment happen because patients are seldom seen during an episode. “You're tired and depressed, but not in agony,” one says. He proceeds by ruling out other primary head pain conditions, such as tension-type headache, before diagnosing the disorder. A detailed history is crucial: on which part of the head do signs occur? For how much time? What time of year? Are there precipitating factors, such as alcohol? Certain features such as redness, sagging 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 unsuitable therapies.

Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has suffered from the condition for the majority of her adult life, although she hasn't had an attack since 2016. When she was in her 20s, she had her molars pulled because dental professionals misunderstood her symptoms. She thinks the dental profession still need greater awareness. When a sufferer sought help from a support group, it was Chapman who replied. The author recalls calling a support line during an bout in early 2021; a reassuring advisor guided me through oxygen therapy and medication until the attack eased.

Official guidance on management advise that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen therapy and/or a anti-migraine drug delivered by nasal spray. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Prophylactic options include verapamil, which apparently soothes the bouts of well-known individuals.

But leading specialists argue the guidance need revising to reflect a clearer clinical pathway and help GPs avoid incorrect prescriptions. For periodic patients, timing is everything: “The length of the bout dictates the approach.” Brief cycles with infrequent episodes are handled with acute therapy only. Longer or more severe bouts require preventives such as certain drugs, sometimes combined with steroids. A significant number of patients also receive a nerve block injection during a cycle – an procedure into the side of the head where the discomfort is that reduces nerve signals.

The official guidelines need updating to reflect a
Kelly May
Kelly May

Automotive enthusiast and certified mechanic with over a decade of experience in clutch systems and performance tuning.