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

It began on a overcast weekday morning in September 2016. I was working as a educator, trying to settle a new group of students, when a sharp sensation bloomed behind my one eye. This was followed by quick stabs, similar to lightning bolts. As the school day progressed, the pain eased and then returned with increased force. Multiple times that day I left a teaching assistant with activities and ran to the staff bathroom to soak my face with cool water. I tried paracetamol, but the agony remained unrelenting.

The headaches returned repeatedly that fall, and once more in the spring, soon forming an annual pattern. The autumn months were the worst, then February and March. I could anticipate the routine: a warning sensation in the shower, early pangs on the commute, full-blown agony in class by mid-morning. In late 2019, a GP eventually sent me to a specialist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headache disorder.

This condition typically start with severe discomfort behind one eye that persists up to several hours.

About one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the disorder, and males are more frequently diagnosed. Attacks typically begin with sudden, excruciating agony around one 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 associated with red or watery eyes, sagging eyelids or face sweating. I have the episodic form, which arrives in periodic bouts; others have chronic attacks, characterized by the lack of long pain-free periods.

What unites sufferers is the intensity. One research paper rated the sensation at 9.7 10, more severe than bone fractures or other conditions. Another found a significant percentage of cluster patients reported thoughts of self-harm during bouts; the figure fell to four percent when they were not in pain.

Val Hobbs, in her seventies, a long-term sufferer from Pembrokeshire, finds this understandable. Her attacks began when she was a toddler. “I would throw myself on the ground and hit my head. That was put down to being spoiled,” she says. Her condition deteriorated through childhood. Drinking in her adolescence, similar to many triggers, made things worse. After having sherry at her graduation party, she recalls hardly being able to see on the bus home.

Her relatives often interpreted her episodes as intoxicated behavior. Support eventually came from her parent and then from her partner, Rod. “I was very fortunate to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs found clerical work after relocating, but often concealed her condition. She was fired from one job, in part due to time off during attacks. Her breakthrough identification came in 2002 at a national neurology center.

Nevertheless, the failure to plan life around unpredictable attacks took its toll. She especially hated being unable to plan outings, being seen as flaky as a colleague, and even having to be looked after by her children during the paralysis caused by the worst episodes. “It robs you of the small freedoms we don't value until they're gone,” she says. She remembers winning tickets for a major concert, only to have an attack inside a portable toilet.


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

Ancient healing records suggest bizarre remedies for what modern observers would classify as a headache disorder. In the middle ages, migraine was identified as a separate disorder, with treatments including bloodletting to other, more superstitious cures.

It was a European physician who provided the first detailed description of a cluster-type attack. In his writings, he speaks of a patient “afflicted with a very intense headache happening and disappearing each day at specific hours”.

Cluster headaches were only officially classified by international headache societies in the late 1980s. From the 1960s to the late 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a problem with a key artery which delivers blood to the brain. Prominent experts in treating the condition explain this.

In the late 1990s, scientists published the results of a research project for which they had induced cluster headaches in patients and monitored the episodes in a imaging machine. The results, published in a prominent journal, showed activation of the a brain region, which is in charge for human circadian rhythm, when patients were in pain, and a deactivation when they recovered.

In spite of such progress, diagnosis remains slow. One man's attacks started in the 1980s and felt like “a modelling balloon being blown up behind my one eye”. GPs thought he had a sinus issue; he had multiple surgeries before eventually being diagnosed in recently, after a doctor looked up his symptoms.

Specialists say delays in diagnosing and treatment occur because patients are seldom seen during an episode. “You're tired and depressed, but not in severe pain,” one says. He works by eliminating other common head pain conditions, such as migraine, before confirming cluster headaches. A detailed history is essential: on which side do symptoms appear? For how much time? What season? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Specific characteristics such as redness, sagging eyelids and nasal congestion help verify cluster headaches. Once identified, patients may be sent to dedicated clinics. But many first go to A&E or are given unsuitable treatments.

Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has experienced cluster headaches for most of her adult life, although she has been free from an attack since recent years. When she was in her 20s, she had her teeth extracted because dental professionals misunderstood her symptoms. She thinks the dental profession still need greater awareness. When another patient sought help from a charity, it was she who replied. The author recalls calling a helpline during an attack in 2021; a reassuring volunteer talked them through oxygen therapy and drugs until the episode eased.

National guidelines on treatment advise that patients are offered high-flow oxygen therapy and/or a specific drug delivered by nasal spray. No tablets or strong analgesics should be used. Prophylactic options include a blood pressure medication, which reportedly soothes the attacks of well-known people.

But consultant neurologists argue the official guidelines need updating to reflect a clearer treatment pathway and help GPs avoid incorrect prescriptions. For episodic patients, the treatment window is everything: “The length of the cycle dictates the treatment.” Brief cycles with occasional attacks are handled with acute therapy alone. Longer or more intense periods require preventative medications such as certain drugs, sometimes paired with corticosteroids. A significant number of patients also receive a nerve block injection during a bout – an injection into the side of the skull where the discomfort is that decreases nerve activity.

The official guidance need updating to reflect a
Justin Harrington
Justin Harrington

A creative lifestyle blogger and mindfulness coach sharing practical tips for a balanced life.