Full-Blown Agony: My Battle With the Puzzling Pain of Cluster Headaches

It began on a dreary weekday morning in September 2016. I worked as a teacher, trying to settle a new class, when a sharp pain erupted behind my right eye. Then came rapid shocks, reminiscent of electric shocks. As the school day came and went, the discomfort eased and then came back with greater intensity. Four times that day I handed over a teaching assistant with activities and hurried to the school bathroom to douse my face with cool water. I tried ibuprofen, but the pain remained unrelenting.

The attacks appeared frequently that fall, and once more in spring, soon establishing an annual cycle. The autumn months were the most severe, then February and March. I could predict the pattern: aura in the morning, early pangs on the train, full-blown pain in the classroom by mid-morning. In 2019, a doctor eventually sent me to a specialist and I was given a diagnosis with cluster headaches.

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

Approximately 1 in 1000 people are affected by the condition, and males are more frequently affected. Cluster headaches usually start with abrupt, severe pain around a single eye that peaks 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 associated with tearing eyes, drooping eyelids or face sweating. There exists the episodic form, which arrives in periodic bouts; some patients have continuous attacks, characterized by the absence of extended pain-free periods.

What connects patients is the intensity. One research paper rated the pain at 9.7 out of 10, more severe than broken bones or other conditions. Another found 64% of cluster headache patients reported thoughts of self-harm amid attacks; the figure dropped to four percent when they were not in pain.

One patient, in her seventies, a long-term patient from Wales, finds this understandable. Her episodes began when she was a toddler. “I would throw myself on the ground and hit my head. That was attributed to being spoiled,” she says. Her symptoms deteriorated through her youth. Drinking in her adolescence, like many causes, made things more intense. After having alcohol at her graduation party, she recalls hardly being able to see on the bus home.

Her relatives often interpreted her attacks as drunken episodes. Understanding finally came from her parent and then from her partner, Rod. “I was very lucky to find such an understanding person,” she says. Hobbs found clerical work after moving, but often hid her condition. She was dismissed from one job, in part due to time off during episodes. Her breakthrough identification came in the early 2000s at a specialist hospital.

Nevertheless, the failure to organize daily activities around unpredictable attacks took its toll. She particularly disliked being unable to plan outings, being seen as unreliable as a colleague, and even having to be looked after by her children during the incapacitation caused by the most severe episodes. “It steals from you of the simple liberties we don't appreciate until they're gone,” she says. She remembers winning tickets for a significant concert, only to have an episode inside a facility.


Headaches have been documented across the ages. “The earliest description of headache comes by way of the ancient civilizations in antiquity,” write experts in a book on the topic. They linked the disease to an evil spirit who afflicted his victims' heads.

Ancient medical records propose bizarre treatments for what some experts would classify as a migraine. In the medieval times, severe headache was identified as a distinct disorder, with therapies ranging from bloodletting to other, more folk cures.

It was a Dutch doctor who provided the initial comprehensive description of a cluster headache. In his writings, he describes a patient “suffering with a very intense headache happening and disappearing each day at specific hours”.

The disorder were only formally recognised by global medical societies in the late 1980s. From the mid-20th century to the 1990s, they were thought to be caused by a problem with a key blood vessel which supplies blood to the head. Leading experts in treating the condition note this.

In 1998, researchers released the findings of a research project for which they had triggered attacks in patients and monitored the attacks in a brain scanner. The results, featured in a major journal, showed activation of the a brain region, which is in charge for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in pain, and a deactivation when they felt better.

In spite of such advances, identification remains delayed. Jamie Charteris's attacks began in 1986 and felt like “a modelling balloon being inflated behind my left eye”. GPs thought he had sinus problems; he underwent multiple surgeries before eventually being correctly identified in 2014, after a physician researched his symptoms.

Neurologists say delays in diagnosing and treatment happen because patients are seldom seen during an episode. “You're exhausted and depressed, but not in severe pain,” one says. He proceeds by ruling out other common headache conditions, such as migraine, before diagnosing the disorder. A thorough patient history is crucial: on which part of the head do signs appear? For how long? What time of year? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Certain characteristics such as tearing, drooping eyelids and nasal congestion help verify cluster headaches. Once diagnosed, patients may be referred to dedicated centers. But a lot of first arrive to emergency rooms or are given unsuitable therapies.

Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has suffered from the condition for most of her adult life, although she hasn't had an attack since 2016. When she was in her twenties, she had her molars pulled because dentists misunderstood her symptoms. She thinks dentists still need much more awareness. When a sufferer sought help from a charity, it was Chapman who replied. I remember calling a support line during an attack in early 2021; a reassuring volunteer talked me through oxygen therapy and medication until the episode eased.

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

But leading neurologists believe the official guidelines need updating to reflect a clearer clinical pathway and help general practitioners avoid misprescribing. For periodic patients, the treatment window is everything: “The length of the cycle determines the treatment.” Short bouts with occasional episodes are managed with abortive therapy alone. More prolonged or more intense periods require preventative medications such as verapamil, sometimes combined with steroids. Many patients also receive a greater occipital nerve block during a bout – an injection into the side of the skull where the pain is that reduces nerve activity.

The national guidelines need updating to reflect a
Brianna Mooney
Brianna Mooney

A space science journalist with a background in astrophysics, passionate about making cosmic phenomena accessible to all readers.