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It was a dreary weekday in the morning in September 2016. I was working as a educator, trying to settle a new class, when a sudden pain sprang behind my right eye. It was followed by quick jolts, similar to electric shocks. As each class came and went, the discomfort subsided and then came back with greater intensity. Four times that day I left a colleague with worksheets and hurried to the school bathroom to douse my face with cold water. I tried aspirin, but the agony remained unrelenting.
The attacks returned frequently that autumn, and once more in the spring, soon establishing an yearly cycle. September and October were the worst, then the late winter. I could anticipate the pattern: a warning sensation in the morning, early twinges on the commute, full-blown pain in class by mid-morning. In 2019, a GP finally sent me to a neurologist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headache disorder.
This condition typically start with severe discomfort around one eye that persists for three hours.
About one in 1,000 people suffer by the disorder, and men are more frequently diagnosed. Cluster headaches typically begin with abrupt, excruciating agony focused on a single eye that reaches its peak within a short time and lasts for up to three hours. Attacks come in clusters, daily or multiple times a day, and are accompanied by red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or face sweating. There exists the episodic form, which arrives in periodic cycles; some patients have continuous attacks, defined by the absence of long symptom-free periods.
What connects patients is the severity. One study rated the sensation at 9.7 10, more severe than broken bones or pancreatitis. A separate found 64% of cluster patients experienced thoughts of self-harm amid attacks; the figure fell to 4% when they were pain-free.
Val Hobbs, in her seventies, a chronic sufferer from Pembrokeshire, isn't surprised. Her attacks started when she was two. “I would hurl myself on the ground and bang my head. That was attributed to being spoiled,” she says. Her symptoms worsened through childhood. Drinking in her adolescence, like several triggers, made things more intense. After drinking alcohol at her school leaving party, she recalls barely being able to see on the bus home.
Her relatives often interpreted her episodes as intoxicated behavior. Support finally came from her parent and then from her partner, Rod. “I was very lucky to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after relocating, but often concealed her illness. She was fired from one job, in part due to absences during episodes. Her breakthrough identification came in the early 2000s at a national neurology center.
Nevertheless, the inability to organize daily activities around unpredictable attacks took its effect. She especially disliked being unable to plan outings, being seen as flaky as a colleague, and even having to be looked after by her family during the incapacitation caused by the most severe episodes. “It steals from you of the small freedoms we don't value until they're gone,” she says. She remembers obtaining tickets for a significant concert, only to have an attack inside a facility.
Headaches have been documented across history. “The first description of headache comes by way of the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write authors in a book on the topic. They linked the ailment to an malevolent spirit who attacked his sufferers' heads.
Ancient healing texts suggest bizarre remedies for what modern experts would classify as a migraine. In the medieval times, migraine was recognised as a separate disorder, with therapies ranging from herbal concoctions to other, more superstitious cures.
It was a European physician who provided the first comprehensive description of a cluster-type attack. In his medical observations, he describes a patient “suffering with a very intense headache occurring and disappearing each day at specific hours”.
Cluster headaches were only formally classified by global headache societies in 1988. From the mid-20th century to the late 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a issue with a major artery that supplies blood to the head. Prominent experts in diagnosing the disorder note this.
In the late 1990s, researchers published the results of a study for which they had induced attacks in patients and observed the episodes in a imaging machine. The results, published in a major journal, showed increased activity of the a brain region, which is in charge for human circadian rhythm, when patients were in pain, and a reduction when they felt better.
In spite of such progress, diagnosis remains delayed. Jamie Charteris's attacks started in 1986 and felt like “a modelling balloon being blown up behind my one eye”. GPs thought he had a sinus issue; he had four operations before eventually being correctly identified in recently, after a doctor researched his symptoms.
Neurologists say wait times in diagnosing and treatment happen because patients are rarely seen during an episode. “You're exhausted and depressed, but not in agony,” one says. He proceeds by ruling out other common headache disorders, such as tension-type headache, before confirming cluster headaches. A thorough patient history is crucial: on which part of the head do symptoms occur? For how long? What season? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Specific features such as redness, drooping eyelids and stuffy nose help verify the diagnosis. Once identified, patients may be sent to dedicated centers. But many first go to emergency rooms or are given unsuitable treatments.
A charity trustee, in her late seventies, has experienced the condition for the majority of her life, although she has been free from an episode since recent years. When she was in her twenties, she had her teeth extracted because dentists misinterpreted her pain. She thinks dentists still need greater awareness. When another patient sought help from a support group, it was she who responded. The author recalls calling a helpline during an attack in 2021; a reassuring advisor talked me through oxygen therapy and medication until the attack passed.
Official guidance on management recommend that sufferers are offered high-dose oxygen and/or a specific drug delivered by injection. No oral painkillers or strong analgesics should be used. Prophylactic options include a blood pressure medication, which apparently soothes the attacks of well-known individuals.
But consultant neurologists argue the guidance need updating to reflect a clearer treatment process and help general practitioners avoid misprescribing. For periodic patients, timing is everything: “The length of the cycle determines the approach.” Short cycles with occasional attacks are managed with abortive treatment only. Longer or more intense periods require preventative medications such as verapamil, sometimes paired with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a cycle – an procedure into the area of the head where the pain is that decreases nerve signals.
The official guidelines need updating to reflect a
Elara is a seasoned journalist and digital content creator with a passion for uncovering stories that matter.
Rita Davis
Rita Davis