Excruciating Suffering: My Fight Against the Mysterious Suffering of Cluster Headache Syndrome
It began on a gloomy Monday in the morning in the autumn of 2016. I worked as a teacher, trying to settle a new class, when a intense sensation bloomed behind my right eye. It was followed by rapid stabs, reminiscent of lightning bolts. As the school day came and went, the discomfort subsided and then came back with greater intensity. Multiple times that day I handed over a teaching assistant with activities and ran to the staff bathroom to douse my face with cold water. I took aspirin, but the agony remained unbearable.
The headaches appeared repeatedly 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 routine: aura in the morning, early pangs on the commute, full-blown agony in the classroom by 9.30am. In late 2019, a GP finally sent me to a neurologist and I was diagnosed with cluster headaches.
Cluster headaches typically begin with intense discomfort behind a single eye that lasts for several hours.
Approximately one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the disorder, and men are more often diagnosed. Attacks usually begin with sudden, excruciating agony around one eye that reaches its peak within minutes and continues for up to three hours. Episodes come in clusters, every day or multiple times a day, and are accompanied by red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or face perspiration. There exists the episodic form, which arrives in seasonal bouts; others have continuous cluster headaches, characterized by the lack of long symptom-free periods.
What unites patients is the severity. One study rated the pain at 9.7 10, higher than broken bones or other conditions. A separate discovered 64% of cluster headache patients experienced thoughts of self-harm amid bouts; the number dropped to four percent when they were not in pain.
Val Hobbs, in her seventies, a chronic sufferer from Wales, finds this understandable. Her episodes started when she was two. “I would throw myself on the floor and bang my head. That was attributed to being a difficult child,” she says. Her condition deteriorated through childhood. Drinking in her adolescence, similar to several causes, made things more intense. After drinking sherry at her graduation party, she remembers hardly being able to see on the bus home.
Her family often interpreted her episodes as intoxicated behavior. Support eventually came from her parent and then from her partner, her spouse. “I was very fortunate to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs found office work after moving, but often hid her condition. She was dismissed from one job, partly due to absences during episodes. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in the early 2000s at a national hospital.
Still, the failure to plan life around erratic pain took its toll. She especially hated being unable to plan social events, being seen as unreliable as a co-worker, and even having to be cared for by her children during the incapacitation caused by the worst episodes. “It robs you of the simple liberties we don't value until they're gone,” she says. She recalls obtaining tickets for a significant concert, only to have an episode inside a facility.
Headaches have been described across history. “The earliest account of headache originates from the Mesopotamians in antiquity,” write experts in a book on the subject. They linked the ailment to an malevolent spirit who afflicted his victims' heads.
Historical medical texts propose unusual treatments for what modern experts would describe as a migraine. In the middle ages, migraine was identified as a separate condition, with treatments ranging from bloodletting to other, more superstitious cures.
It was a Dutch doctor who provided the first comprehensive account of a cluster-type attack. In his medical observations, he speaks of a patient “afflicted with a very intense headache occurring and vanishing daily at specific hours”.
The disorder were only officially classified by international medical societies in 1988. From the 1960s to the late 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a problem with a major blood vessel which supplies blood to the brain. Prominent specialists in diagnosing the condition explain this.
In the late 1990s, scientists published the results of a study for which they had triggered attacks in patients and monitored the attacks in a brain scanner. The data, 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 discomfort, and a reduction when they recovered.
In spite of such progress, identification remains delayed. Jamie Charteris's attacks began in 1986 and felt like “a modelling balloon being blown up behind my left eye”. GPs thought he had sinus problems; he had multiple operations before eventually being diagnosed in 2014, after a physician looked up his complaints.
Neurologists say delays in diagnosis and treatment occur 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 common headache conditions, such as migraine, before diagnosing the disorder. A thorough patient history is crucial: on which side do symptoms occur? For how much time? What season? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Certain characteristics such as tearing, drooping eyelids and nasal congestion help confirm the diagnosis. Once diagnosed, patients may be sent to dedicated clinics. But a lot of first go to emergency rooms or are given unsuitable therapies.
Dorothy Chapman, 78, has experienced 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 teeth extracted because dentists misinterpreted her symptoms. She believes the dental profession still need much more education. When another patient sought help from a support group, it was she who responded. The author recalls calling a helpline during an bout in early 2021; a calm volunteer guided me through oxygen therapy and drugs until the attack passed.
Official guidelines on management advise that sufferers are offered high-dose oxygen therapy and/or a anti-migraine medication administered by injection. No tablets or opioids should be used. Preventive choices include verapamil, which apparently helps manage the attacks of some individuals.
But consultant specialists argue the official guidelines need updating to reflect a clearer clinical process and help general practitioners avoid misprescribing. For periodic patients, the treatment window is critical: “The duration of the bout determines the approach.” Brief cycles with occasional attacks are managed with acute therapy alone. Longer or more severe periods require preventives such as certain drugs, sometimes paired with steroids. A significant number of patients also receive a nerve block injection during a bout – an injection into the area of the head where the pain is that decreases nerve signals.
The national guidance need revising to reflect a