Full-Blown Agony: A Personal Fight Against the Enigmatic Suffering of Cluster Headaches

It began on a gloomy Monday in the morning in September 2016. I was working as a educator, attempting to manage a new group of students, when a sudden pain sprang behind my right eye. Then came quick stabs, reminiscent of lightning bolts. As the school day progressed, the pain subsided and then came back with greater force. Multiple times that day I left a colleague with activities and ran to the staff bathroom to soak my face with cool water. I took aspirin, but the agony remained unbearable.

The attacks returned frequently that fall, and once more in spring, soon forming an yearly cycle. September and October were the most severe, then February and March. I could anticipate the routine: aura in the shower, early pangs on the train, full-blown pain in class by 9.30am. In 2019, a GP eventually referred me to a neurologist and I was diagnosed with cluster headaches.

This condition often begin with severe discomfort around a single eye that persists up to several hours.

Approximately one in 1,000 individuals suffer by the condition, and men are more often diagnosed. Attacks typically begin with sudden, excruciating agony focused on a single eye that reaches its peak within minutes and continues for as long as three hours. Attacks occur in cycles, daily or multiple times a day, and are accompanied by red or watery eyes, drooping eyelids or face perspiration. I have the episodic form, which arrives in periodic bouts; some patients have chronic cluster headaches, defined by the lack of extended symptom-free periods.

What unites patients is the intensity. One research paper rated the sensation at 9.7 10, more severe than bone fractures or other conditions. A separate discovered a significant percentage of cluster headache patients reported suicidal thoughts amid attacks; the number fell to four percent when they were not in pain.

Val Hobbs, 74, a chronic patient from Pembrokeshire, isn't surprised. Her episodes began when she was a toddler. “I would throw myself on the ground and bang my head. That was attributed to being a difficult child,” she says. Her condition worsened through childhood. Alcohol in her adolescence, similar to many causes, made things worse. After drinking sherry at her school leaving party, she remembers barely being able to see on the transport home.

Her family often mistook her attacks as drunken behavior. Support eventually came from her parent and then from her partner, her spouse. “I was very fortunate to find such an exceptional person,” she says. Hobbs took office work after moving, but often concealed her illness. She was dismissed from one job, partly due to time off during attacks. Her breakthrough identification came in the early 2000s at a national neurology center.

Nevertheless, the inability to organize life around unpredictable pain took its effect. She particularly disliked being unable to plan outings, being seen as flaky as a colleague, and even having to be cared for by her family during the paralysis caused by the worst episodes. “It steals from you of the small freedoms we don't appreciate until they're gone,” she says. She recalls winning tickets for a significant concert, only to have an episode inside a portable toilet.


Headaches have been documented across the ages. “The first description of headache originates from the ancient civilizations in antiquity,” write experts in a book on the subject. They attributed the disease to an evil entity who attacked his victims' heads.

Ancient medical records propose unusual remedies for what modern observers would classify as a headache disorder. In the middle ages, severe headache was recognised as a separate condition, with treatments ranging from bloodletting to other, more superstitious remedies.

It was a European physician who provided the initial detailed description of a cluster-type attack. In his medical observations, he speaks of a patient “suffering with a very intense headache happening and disappearing daily at specific hours”.

Cluster headaches were only officially classified by international headache committees in the late 1980s. From the 1960s to the late 1990s, they were believed to be caused by a issue with a major artery which delivers blood to the head. Prominent specialists in treating the condition note this.

In the late 1990s, scientists released the results of a study for which they had triggered attacks in patients and observed the attacks in a imaging machine. The results, featured in a major journal, showed activation of the hypothalamus, which is in charge for human sleep-wake cycles, when patients were in discomfort, and a reduction when they recovered.

Despite such advances, diagnosis remains delayed. Jamie Charteris's attacks began in 1986 and felt like “a balloon being blown up behind my one eye”. GPs thought he had sinus problems; he underwent four operations before eventually being correctly identified in recently, after a physician looked up his symptoms.

Specialists say delays in diagnosis and managing happen because patients are rarely seen during an episode. “You're tired and depressed, but not in agony,” a doctor says. He proceeds by ruling out other primary headache conditions, such as migraine, before confirming cluster headaches. A detailed patient history is essential: on which side do symptoms appear? For how long? What season? Are there precipitating factors, such as certain foods? Specific features such as redness, sagging eyelids and nasal congestion help verify the diagnosis. Once identified, patients may be referred to specialist centers. But many first arrive to A&E or are given inadequate treatments.

Dorothy Chapman, in her late seventies, has experienced the condition for most of her adult life, although she has been free from an episode since 2016. When she was in her 20s, she had her molars extracted because dentists misunderstood her pain. She believes dentists still need much more awareness. When a sufferer sought help from a support group, it was she who responded. The author recalls calling a helpline during an bout in early 2021; a calm volunteer guided them through oxygen therapy and medication until the attack eased.

National guidance on treatment advise that sufferers are offered high-flow oxygen therapy and/or a anti-migraine drug administered by injection. No tablets or opioids should be used. Preventive choices include a blood pressure medication, which apparently helps manage the bouts of well-known people.

But leading specialists argue the guidance need revising to reflect a more defined clinical pathway and help GPs avoid incorrect prescriptions. For periodic patients, timing is critical: “The length of the cycle determines the approach.” Brief bouts with occasional episodes are managed with acute therapy alone. More prolonged or more intense bouts require preventative medications such as certain drugs, sometimes paired with corticosteroids. Many patients also receive a nerve block injection during a bout – an injection into the area of the head where the pain is that decreases nerve activity.

The official guidelines need revising to reflect a
Erica Oconnell
Erica Oconnell

Elara Vance is a cultural geographer and writer fascinated by patterns of chance in urban environments.