Full-Blown Pain: A Personal Fight Against the Puzzling Pain of Cluster Headache Syndrome

It was a overcast Monday in the morning in September 2016. I was working as a educator, attempting to manage a new group of students, when a sudden sensation erupted behind my one eye. This was followed by quick stabs, like lightning bolts. As each class progressed, the discomfort eased and then came back with increased intensity. Multiple times that day I left a teaching assistant with activities and ran to the staff bathroom to soak my face with cold water. I took ibuprofen, but the pain remained unbearable.

The attacks appeared repeatedly that autumn, and once more in spring, soon forming an annual pattern. September and October were the worst, then February and March. I could anticipate the pattern: aura in the morning, early pangs on the commute, full-on agony in the classroom by mid-morning. In 2019, a GP eventually referred me to a neurologist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headache disorder.

This condition often start with severe pain around one eye that persists for three hours.

Approximately one in 1,000 people are affected by the disorder, and men are more frequently affected. Attacks usually start with sudden, excruciating pain around a single eye that reaches its peak within minutes and continues for up to three hours. Attacks come in clusters, every day or several times a day, and are accompanied by tearing eyes, drooping eyelids or facial perspiration. There exists the episodic form, which arrives in periodic cycles; others have chronic attacks, defined by the lack of extended pain-free periods.

What unites patients is the intensity. One study scored the sensation at 9.7 out of 10, higher than bone fractures or pancreatitis. Another found 64% of cluster patients reported thoughts of self-harm during attacks; the figure fell to four percent when they were pain-free.

One patient, 74, a chronic sufferer from Wales, isn't surprised. Her attacks began when she was a toddler. “I would throw myself on the floor and bang my head. That was attributed to being spoiled,” she says. Her condition worsened through childhood. Alcohol in her teens, similar to several causes, made things worse. After drinking sherry at her school leaving party, she remembers hardly being able to see on the bus home.

Her relatives often mistook her episodes as drunken episodes. Support finally came from her parent and then from her husband, Rod. “I was very fortunate to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs found clerical work after relocating, but often hid her condition. She was dismissed from one job, partly due to time off during attacks. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in the early 2000s at a specialist neurology center.

Nevertheless, the failure to organize life around erratic pain took its effect. She especially hated being unable to plan outings, being seen as unreliable as a co-worker, and even having to be looked after by her family 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 recalls obtaining tickets for a major concert, only to have an attack inside a facility.


Headaches have been described throughout history. “The earliest account of headache originates from the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write authors in a book on the subject. They attributed the disease to an evil spirit who afflicted his sufferers' heads.

Ancient medical texts suggest unusual remedies for what some observers would describe as a migraine. In the medieval times, migraine was recognised as a distinct disorder, with therapies including herbal concoctions to other, more superstitious cures.

It was a European physician who provided the first detailed account of a cluster-type attack. In his medical observations, he describes a patient “suffering with a very intense headache happening and vanishing each day at specific hours”.

The disorder were only formally recognised by global headache societies in the late 1980s. From the 1960s to the late 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a issue with a key blood vessel which delivers blood to the brain. Leading experts in diagnosing the disorder explain this.

In the late 1990s, researchers published the findings of a study for which they had triggered cluster headaches in patients and monitored the episodes in a imaging machine. The results, featured in a prominent journal, showed activation of the a brain region, which is in charge for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in discomfort, and a reduction when they recovered.

In spite of such progress, identification remains delayed. One man's attacks started in the 1980s and felt like “a modelling balloon being blown up behind my one eye”. Doctors thought he had sinus problems; he underwent four operations before eventually being diagnosed in recently, after a physician researched his symptoms.

Specialists say delays in diagnosis and managing occur because patients are seldom seen during an episode. “You're exhausted and depressed, but not in agony,” a doctor says. He proceeds by ruling out other common headache disorders, such as tension-type headache, before diagnosing cluster headaches. A thorough patient history is essential: on which side do symptoms occur? For how much time? What season? Are there triggers, such as certain foods? Certain features such as redness, sagging eyelids and stuffy nose help confirm the diagnosis. Once diagnosed, patients may be sent to dedicated clinics. But a lot of first arrive to emergency rooms or are given inadequate therapies.

Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has experienced the condition for most of her adult life, although she has been free from an attack since recent years. When she was in her twenties, she had her teeth extracted because dental professionals misinterpreted her symptoms. She thinks the dental profession still need greater awareness. When a sufferer sought help from a charity, it was she who responded. I remember calling a helpline during an attack in early 2021; a calm advisor talked me through oxygen treatment and drugs until the attack passed.

National guidance on management recommend that patients are offered high-flow oxygen therapy and/or a anti-migraine drug delivered by nasal spray. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Preventive options include a blood pressure medication, which apparently soothes the bouts of some individuals.

But leading neurologists believe the guidance need revising to reflect a clearer treatment pathway and help general practitioners avoid incorrect prescriptions. For periodic patients, the treatment window is everything: “The length of the bout determines the treatment.” Brief cycles with occasional attacks are managed with acute treatment only. Longer or more intense periods require preventative medications such as verapamil, sometimes paired with corticosteroids. A significant number of patients also receive a nerve block injection during a cycle – an injection into the side of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve activity.

The official guidance need revising to reflect a
Kimberly Shaw
Kimberly Shaw

Elara is a digital strategist with over a decade of experience in cybersecurity and tech innovation, passionate about simplifying complex topics.