Unbearable Pain: My Fight With the Puzzling Pain of Cluster Headaches
It was a gloomy weekday in the morning in September 2016. I was working as a teacher, attempting to manage a new class, when a sharp sensation erupted behind my right eye. It was followed by quick jolts, similar to lightning bolts. As the school day progressed, the pain subsided and then came back with greater force. Multiple times that day I left a colleague with worksheets and hurried to the school bathroom to soak my face with cool water. I tried aspirin, but the agony remained unrelenting.
The headaches appeared repeatedly that fall, and once more in spring, soon establishing an annual pattern. September and October were the worst, then the late winter. I could anticipate the pattern: aura in the shower, early twinges on the train, full-on agony in the classroom by mid-morning. In late 2019, a GP eventually sent me to a specialist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headache disorder.
This condition typically start with intense pain around a single eye that lasts for several hours.
Approximately one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the condition, and males are more often diagnosed. Cluster headaches usually start with sudden, excruciating pain focused on one eye that peaks within a short time and continues for up to three hours. Attacks come in clusters, daily or multiple times a day, and are associated with tearing eyes, drooping eyelids or face sweating. I have the episodic form, which arrives in periodic cycles; some patients have continuous attacks, characterized by the absence of extended pain-free periods.
What connects patients is the severity. One research paper rated the sensation at 9.7 10, higher than bone fractures or other conditions. A separate found 64% of cluster headache patients experienced suicidal thoughts amid bouts; the figure fell to 4% when they were not in pain.
Val Hobbs, in her seventies, a chronic sufferer from Pembrokeshire, isn't surprised. Her episodes began when she was two. “I would hurl myself on the ground and hit my head. That was attributed to being a difficult child,” she says. Her symptoms worsened through childhood. Alcohol in her adolescence, similar to many causes, made things worse. After having sherry at her graduation party, she remembers hardly being able to see on the transport home.
Her relatives often interpreted her attacks as intoxicated episodes. Understanding eventually came from her father and then from her partner, her spouse. “I was very fortunate to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs found office work after relocating, but often concealed her condition. She was dismissed from one job, partly due to time off during episodes. Her definitive identification came in 2002 at a national neurology center.
Nevertheless, the failure to plan daily activities around erratic pain took its toll. She especially hated being unable to plan outings, being seen as flaky as a colleague, and even having to be looked after by her children during the paralysis caused by the most severe episodes. “It robs you of the small liberties we don't value until they're gone,” she says. She recalls obtaining tickets for a major concert, only to have an attack inside a portable toilet.
Headaches have been described across history. “The first account of headache comes by way of the Mesopotamians in antiquity,” write experts in a book on the subject. They linked the ailment to an evil entity who attacked his victims' heads.
Historical healing records suggest bizarre treatments for what some experts would describe as a migraine. In the medieval times, migraine was identified as a distinct disorder, with therapies ranging from bloodletting to other, more folk remedies.
It was a Dutch physician who provided the initial comprehensive description of a cluster headache. In his writings, he describes a patient “suffering with a very severe headache occurring and disappearing each day at specific hours”.
The disorder were only officially classified by international medical societies in the late 1980s. From the mid-20th century to the 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a problem with a major blood vessel that supplies blood to the head. Prominent specialists in treating the disorder note this.
In the late 1990s, researchers published the findings 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 increased activity of the hypothalamus, which is in charge for human circadian rhythm, when patients were in pain, and a deactivation when they felt better.
Despite such progress, identification remains delayed. One man's attacks started in the 1980s and felt like “a balloon being inflated behind my left eye”. Doctors thought he had sinus problems; he had four surgeries before finally being correctly identified in recently, after a physician looked up his complaints.
Neurologists say delays in diagnosis and managing occur because patients are rarely seen mid-attack. “You're exhausted and low, but not in severe pain,” a doctor says. He proceeds by eliminating other common headache conditions, such as tension-type headache, before confirming the disorder. A thorough history is essential: on which part of the head do symptoms occur? For how much time? What time of year? Are there triggers, such as alcohol? Specific characteristics such as tearing, sagging eyelids and stuffy nose help confirm the diagnosis. Once identified, patients may be referred to dedicated centers. But many first arrive to emergency rooms or are given unsuitable therapies.
Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has experienced the condition for the majority of her life, although she hasn't had an episode since 2016. When she was in her 20s, she had her molars extracted because dentists misunderstood her pain. She believes the dental profession still need greater education. When a sufferer sought help from a charity, it was Chapman who replied. The author recalls calling a support line during an attack in early 2021; a reassuring advisor talked them through oxygen treatment and drugs until the episode passed.
National guidance on management advise that patients are offered high-dose oxygen and/or a anti-migraine drug administered by injection. No oral painkillers or strong analgesics should be used. Preventive choices include verapamil, which reportedly helps manage the attacks of well-known people.
But leading specialists argue the official guidelines need revising to reflect a more defined clinical pathway and help GPs avoid incorrect prescriptions. For episodic patients, timing is critical: “The length of the cycle dictates the treatment.” Short bouts with occasional episodes are managed with abortive therapy only. Longer or more severe periods require preventative medications such as verapamil, sometimes paired with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a nerve block injection during a bout – an procedure into the side of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve activity.
The national guidance need revising to reflect a