Full-Blown Suffering: A Personal Battle Against the Enigmatic Pain of Cluster Headache Syndrome

It began on a dreary Monday in the morning in September 2016. I worked as a teacher, attempting to manage a new class, when a sharp pain erupted behind my one eye. This was followed by rapid shocks, similar to electric shocks. As each class came and went, the discomfort eased and then returned with greater intensity. Four times that day I handed over a teaching assistant with worksheets and hurried to the staff bathroom to douse my face with cold water. I took paracetamol, but the agony remained unbearable.

The headaches returned repeatedly that autumn, and again in spring, soon forming an yearly pattern. September and October were the worst, then February and March. I could predict the pattern: a warning sensation in the shower, early twinges on the commute, full-on pain in the classroom by 9.30am. In late 2019, a GP eventually referred me to a neurologist and I was diagnosed with cluster headache disorder.

This condition typically start with severe discomfort around a single eye that lasts for three hours.

Approximately 1 in 1000 people are affected by the condition, and men are more often diagnosed. Attacks usually begin with abrupt, excruciating agony focused on a single eye that reaches its peak within a short time and continues for as long as three hours. Episodes come in clusters, every day or multiple times a day, and are accompanied by red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or facial sweating. I have an episodic type, which occurs in periodic cycles; some patients have chronic cluster headaches, defined by the lack of long pain-free periods.

What connects patients is the intensity. One study rated the pain at 9.7 out of 10, more severe than broken bones or pancreatitis. Another discovered 64% of cluster patients experienced thoughts of self-harm during attacks; the figure dropped to four percent when they were pain-free.

Val Hobbs, 74, a long-term patient from Pembrokeshire, isn't surprised. Her attacks began when she was a toddler. “I would hurl myself on the ground and hit my head. That was put down to being spoiled,” she says. Her condition worsened through her youth. Alcohol in her adolescence, similar to many causes, made things worse. After drinking sherry at her school leaving party, she recalls hardly being able to see on the transport home.

Her relatives often mistook her episodes as drunken episodes. Support eventually came from her father and then from her partner, Rod. “I was very fortunate to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs took clerical work after moving, but often hid her condition. She was dismissed from one job, partly due to absences during attacks. Her breakthrough diagnosis came in the early 2000s at a specialist hospital.

Still, the failure to plan daily activities around unpredictable pain took its toll. She particularly hated being unable to plan social events, being seen as unreliable as a colleague, and even having to be cared for by her children during the incapacitation caused by the most severe episodes. “It robs you of the simple 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 portable toilet.


Headaches have been described throughout the ages. “The first description of headache originates from the Mesopotamians in 4000BC,” write authors in a book on the subject. They linked the disease to an evil entity who afflicted his victims' heads.

Historical medical texts propose bizarre treatments for what modern experts would classify as a headache disorder. In the medieval times, severe headache was recognised as a distinct condition, with therapies ranging from herbal concoctions to other, more superstitious remedies.

It was a European doctor who provided the initial comprehensive account 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 fixed hours”.

The disorder were only officially recognised by global headache societies in 1988. From the 1960s to the 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a issue with a major blood vessel which supplies blood to the brain. Prominent experts in treating the condition explain this.

In 1998, researchers released the findings of a research project for which they had triggered cluster headaches in patients and observed the attacks in a imaging machine. The data, published in a major medical publication, showed increased activity of the hypothalamus, which is in charge for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in pain, and a reduction when they felt better.

In spite of such progress, diagnosis remains delayed. One man's attacks began in 1986 and felt like “a balloon being inflated behind my left eye”. GPs thought he had a sinus issue; he underwent multiple surgeries before eventually being correctly identified in 2014, after a doctor researched his symptoms.

Specialists say delays in diagnosis and treatment occur because patients are rarely seen mid-attack. “You're tired and depressed, but not in agony,” one says. He works by ruling out other primary head pain disorders, such as tension-type headache, before confirming the disorder. A detailed patient history is essential: on which part of the head do symptoms appear? For how long? What season? Are there triggers, such as alcohol? Specific features such as redness, sagging eyelids and stuffy nose help confirm cluster headaches. Once identified, patients may be sent to specialist clinics. But a lot of first arrive to emergency rooms or are given unsuitable therapies.

A charity trustee, in her late seventies, has experienced cluster headaches for most of her life, although she has been free from an episode since 2016. When she was in her twenties, she had her molars pulled because dental professionals misinterpreted her pain. She believes dentists still need greater awareness. When another patient sought help from a charity, it was Chapman who replied. I remember calling a support line during an bout in early 2021; a calm advisor guided me through oxygen therapy and medication until the attack passed.

National guidelines on management advise that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen therapy and/or a anti-migraine medication delivered by injection. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Prophylactic options include verapamil, which apparently helps manage the attacks of some individuals.

But leading specialists argue the official guidelines need updating to reflect a clearer clinical process and help general practitioners avoid incorrect prescriptions. For episodic patients, the treatment window is everything: “The length of the cycle determines the approach.” Short cycles with occasional attacks are handled with acute treatment alone. Longer or more intense periods require preventative medications such as certain drugs, sometimes combined with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a nerve block injection during a cycle – an injection into the side of the head where the pain is that decreases nerve signals.

The national guidance need revising to reflect a
Janice Ward
Janice Ward

A seasoned travel writer and cultural critic with over a decade of experience exploring global destinations and luxury trends.