Unbearable Agony: My Battle With the Enigmatic Pain of Cluster Headache Syndrome

It was a dreary Monday morning in the autumn of 2016. I was working as a teacher, attempting to manage a new class, when a sharp pain sprang behind my right eye. This was followed by rapid stabs, like electric shocks. As the school day progressed, the discomfort eased and then returned with increased force. Four times that day I handed over a colleague with activities and ran to the school bathroom to soak my face with cold water. I tried ibuprofen, but the pain remained unrelenting.

The headaches returned frequently that autumn, and again in spring, soon forming an annual cycle. The autumn months were the most severe, then February and March. I could anticipate the pattern: a warning sensation in the shower, early pangs on the commute, full-on pain in class by 9.30am. In 2019, a GP finally referred me to a neurologist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headache disorder.

This condition typically begin with intense pain behind one eye that lasts for several hours.

About one in 1,000 individuals are affected by the disorder, and males are more frequently diagnosed. Cluster headaches typically begin with sudden, severe pain around a single eye that reaches its peak within a short time and lasts for as long as three hours. Attacks come in clusters, every day or multiple times a day, and are associated with red or watery eyes, drooping eyelids or facial perspiration. There exists the episodic form, which arrives in periodic bouts; some patients have continuous cluster headaches, defined by the absence of extended pain-free periods.

What connects patients is the intensity. One research paper scored the pain 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 amid bouts; the number dropped to four percent when they were pain-free.

One patient, 74, a long-term sufferer from Wales, finds this understandable. Her attacks started when she was two. “I would throw myself on the floor and bang my head. That was attributed to being spoiled,” she says. Her condition worsened through her youth. Drinking in her teens, similar to many triggers, made things more intense. After drinking sherry at her graduation party, she remembers barely being able to see on the transport home.

Her family often mistook her attacks as intoxicated behavior. Support eventually came from her parent and then from her partner, her spouse. “I was very fortunate to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after moving, but often concealed her illness. She was dismissed from one job, partly due to absences during episodes. Her breakthrough identification came in the early 2000s at a national hospital.

Still, the inability to plan daily activities around unpredictable attacks took its effect. 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 children during the paralysis caused by the worst episodes. “It steals from you of the simple liberties we don't value until they're gone,” she says. She remembers obtaining tickets for a major concert, only to have an episode inside a facility.


Headaches have been described across the ages. “The first account of headache comes by way of the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write authors in a book on the topic. They linked the disease to an evil spirit who attacked his sufferers' heads.

Ancient medical records propose bizarre treatments for what some experts would classify as a migraine. In the middle ages, severe headache was identified as a separate disorder, with treatments including bloodletting to other, more folk remedies.

It was a Dutch physician who provided the first detailed description of a cluster-type attack. In his writings, he speaks of a patient “suffering with a very severe headache occurring and vanishing each day at fixed hours”.

The disorder were only officially recognised by international medical committees in 1988. From the 1960s to the 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a problem with a key blood vessel which supplies blood to the head. Leading experts in treating the disorder explain this.

In the late 1990s, researchers published the findings of a research project for which they had triggered attacks in patients and monitored the episodes in a brain scanner. The data, featured in a prominent journal, showed increased activity of the hypothalamus, which is responsible for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in pain, and a reduction when they recovered.

Despite such progress, diagnosis remains delayed. One man's attacks started in 1986 and felt like “a modelling balloon being inflated behind my one eye”. GPs thought he had sinus problems; he underwent four surgeries before finally being diagnosed in recently, after a doctor looked up his symptoms.

Specialists say wait times in diagnosis and treatment happen because patients are rarely seen during an episode. “You're tired and low, but not in agony,” one says. He proceeds by ruling out other common headache conditions, such as migraine, before diagnosing cluster headaches. A thorough 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 certain foods? Certain characteristics such as tearing, sagging eyelids and stuffy nose help confirm cluster headaches. Once diagnosed, patients may be sent to specialist clinics. But many first arrive to A&E or are given inadequate treatments.

Dorothy Chapman, 78, has suffered from the condition for the majority of her adult life, although she hasn't had an episode since 2016. When she was in her twenties, she had her teeth extracted because dental professionals misinterpreted her symptoms. She thinks dentists still need much more awareness. When another patient sought help from a charity, it was she who replied. I remember calling a support line during an attack in 2021; a calm advisor talked me through oxygen therapy and medication until the attack eased.

National guidelines on management recommend that sufferers are offered high-dose oxygen therapy and/or a anti-migraine drug administered by injection. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Preventive options include verapamil, which apparently helps manage the bouts of well-known people.

But leading specialists believe the official guidelines need revising to reflect a clearer treatment pathway and help GPs avoid misprescribing. For episodic patients, timing is everything: “The duration of the cycle dictates the approach.” Brief cycles with occasional attacks are managed with acute therapy only. Longer or more severe periods require preventives such as verapamil, sometimes combined with steroids. Many patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a bout – an procedure into the side of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve activity.

The official guidelines need revising to reflect a
Timothy Guerrero
Timothy Guerrero

Alexandra Chen is a Swift developer and tech writer with over a decade of experience in iOS development.