‘I’ve been carried more than I’ve ever walked on my own’ - says Buncrana man

In March 2025, young Buncrana man Adrian McMyler noticed a faint ache in his lower back. At twenty-five years old, such a sensation is rarely a cause for alarm; it is more often a byproduct of a long day’s work or a minor strain that a good night’s sleep is expected to cure.

For Adrian, however, this mild soreness was not a fleeting discomfort but the first tremor of a physical and emotional earthquake that would soon threaten to collapse his entire world.

Within weeks, the soreness had sharpened into a persistent, worsening pain that defied rest. By April, the simple act of walking – something most of us take for granted – became an agonising ordeal.

Adrian found himself moving with the unsteadiness of a person under the influence, his balance failing him, as sharp, shooting pains began their relentless journey down both of his legs.

Seeking answers, he was referred to the neurosurgery department at Beaumont Hospital, but in a healthcare system burdened by long waiting lists, the clock began to tick faster than the bureaucracy could move.

The true breaking point arrived on the 15th of June last year, a date now etched into Adrian’s memory. He had spent the day working from home, finishing his shift at 6pm. But when he attempted to stand up from his chair, his limbs suddenly failed him.

Both of his legs gave way, collapsing beneath him. The immediate crisis was met with the harsh reality of modern emergency services: a two-hour wait for an ambulance.

Rushed instead to NowDoc, he was advised to seek an epidural injection to manage the escalating pain. The following day, a trip to a private clinic in Letterkenny for that injection was supposed to be the start of his recovery. Instead, it was the start of a descent into paralysis.

Within hours of the procedure, Adrian was dependent on crutches, his mobility evaporating. Two days later, an ambulance finally rushed him to the hospital, his body gripped by unbearable pain and a terrifying lack of sensation in both legs.

The path to a diagnosis was a frantic race, moving from Letterkenny to urgent assessments in Galway. By a stroke of fate, a long-awaited Beaumont appointment and a Galway consultation fell on consecutive days.

It was in Galway that the medical mystery began to unravel under the keen eye of Dr. Sam Elquid. While the focus had been on Adrian’s back, Dr. Elquid’s neurological tests revealed a hidden danger: a severe weakness in Adrian’s left arm that the patient had not even noticed.

A full-body MRI at the Galway Clinic followed, leading to a chilling instruction: Adrian had just thirty minutes to reach Merlin Park Hospital.

For the next two weeks, he became a resident of the unknown, undergoing an exhaustive battery of brain scans and spinal MRIs while consuming twenty-five tablets a day just to endure the agony.

The findings were as complex as they were devastating. Medical imaging revealed that Adrian had been living since birth with congenital segmentation anomalies in his cervical spine, specifically between the C4 and C6 vertebrae.

This included a rare C5 hemivertebra, a condition where only a portion of the bone had developed. These hidden structural flaws had spent a quarter-century placing excessive strain on his discs and joints, leading to significant spinal canal stenosis.

At the C3-4 level, the narrowing was so severe that it was flattening his spinal cord. Lower down, a large disc protrusion and bone spur were causing direct compression and irritation of the cord.

The diagnosis was clear: Adrian needed major decompression and spinal fusion surgery. At the age of twenty-five, the prospect of losing mobility in his neck and facing the high risks of such an invasive procedure left him shattered.

The year that followed was a gruelling test of human endurance, reshaping Adrian’s life in ways that were both physical and psychological.

The steroids prescribed to manage his condition left him physically swollen and unrecognisable to himself, a change exacerbated by the toll of stress eating.

As his physical form deteriorated, his mental well-being followed. He describes a profound sense of loneliness that persisted even when he was surrounded by friends and loved ones.

The fear of never living a "normal" life again was constant. Walking became not just exhausting but humiliating. He recalled the heartbreak of having to use his late Granny Teasie’s walker, a piece of equipment that served as a stinging reminder of how far his young body had fallen.

He hated the loss of independence, the need for help with the most basic tasks, and the overarching feeling of uselessness.

In his darkest moments, Adrian tried to step back from the community groups that defined him, the Inish Theatre Group and Buncrana’s Children’s Charity. He believed he was no longer useful.

However, the community he had served for so long refused to let him walk away. They reminded him of his intrinsic value, encouraging him to keep going even when he was confined to a bed.

Adrian found a way to contribute, completing an SNA course from his bed and continuing his charity work. His mother, a pillar of strength, often remarked that even on the most painful days, Adrian would smile and sing his way through the hardship.

He leaned heavily on his faith and a daily practice of gratitude, asking for guidance through the darkness. It was this refusal to let the pain extinguish his spirit that ultimately kept him alive.

The road towards the future required a delicate balance between medical responsibility and the courage to explore unconventional paths. While specialists in Galway, Santry, and Beaumont all agreed that surgery was the likely endgame, a shift in symptoms occurred that opened a small window of alternative hope.

Instead of simply waiting for the surgeon’s knife, Adrian chose to take an active role in his healing. This led him to London, where he spent twelve weeks with his cousin, Connell Dorrian, a chiropractor.

For years, Adrian had harboured a deep-seated fear of chiropractic care, imagining a world of aggressive force and cracking bones. The reality he found at Harrow Chiropractic was the opposite: a gentle, slow, and careful approach utilising activator work that supported his body holistically.

This treatment, paired with a radical lifestyle change and a nearly four-stone weight loss, produced results that could only be described as life-changing.

Just three months ago, Adrian could not move without the support of crutches; today, he is moving forward on his own strength.

While he remains realistic about the long road ahead – acknowledging the persistent numbness and the fact that surgery may still be necessary if his symptoms evolve – he is profoundly grateful for the reprieve from invasive intervention.

To Adrian, medical care provided the essential diagnosis and safety net, while chiropractic care provided the holistic support his body needed to begin repairing itself. He believes these two models, though different, can and should work side by side to put the patient first.

Adrian is quick to emphasise that he did not walk this path alone.

"I’ve been carried more than I’ve ever walked on my own," he says.

He speaks with deep affection of his friends Aisling and Caitlin, who travelled across the country to see him in Galway, providing a joy that medicine could not.

He recalls the unwavering presence of his uncle, Dr John Redmond, who attended every appointment in Dublin, and the tireless care of his mother, who stood by him through the most gruelling days of his life.

His brother Paddy and sister-in-law Bebhinn were his rocks, with Paddy flying home from Amsterdam and travelling from America to ensure he was never alone in a hospital room. He also extends his thanks to the extended family in Galway, particularly John and Monica McMyler, who ensured he was never forgotten during his stay there.

Adrian says his dad Pat has been an immense support through it all too.

READ NEXT: Major protest against SNA cuts in Buncrana next week

He’s also eternally grateful for the Inish Theatre Group and Buncrana’s Children’s Charity for “not letting me pull out and do whatever work I could from my bed. This gave me hope and made me realise that I could still do a small bit of work.”

The professional care he received at home was equally vital. Adrian credits Patricia Ferguson, Dr Steele, and Dr Matthews at the Buncrana Medical Centre for their expertise and support. He also carries with him the memory of hundreds of messages, prayers, and kind words from the people of Buncrana, including all his amazing friends.

Adrian is grateful to Connell and Hayley Dorrian, who gave him an alternative pathway to getting better.

“They gave me hope, guided me every day and showed me there is a natural way of getting better rather than surgery.”

All these gestures of solidarity kept him going when he felt he had nothing left to give. He describes himself as blessed and humbled by the love he has been shown, a sentiment that fuels his desire to continue on this positive trajectory.

His story is not one of a simple "cure," but of a complex, ongoing negotiation with a difficult condition – a journey marked by the realisation that even when the body is broken, the spirit can remain intact.

As Adrian looks ahead, he remains committed to the simple but vital tasks of staying healthy, keeping his weight down, and continuing with gentle exercise and regular check-ups.

He is not the same person he was in March 2025, but in many ways, he is stronger. He has learned that medical care and alternative care can be partners rather than rivals, and that the "unknown" does not always have to be feared.

His experience stands as a testament to the power of perseverance and the importance of a community that refuses to let one of its own fall.

For Adrian McMyler, the journey to recovery is far from over, but for the first time in a long time, he is walking towards a future defined not by pain, but by hope.

"Sometimes," he says, reflecting on the toughest year of his life, "just when you’re close to giving up, a bit of light finally breaks through."

This light is what he hopes to share with others who may be facing their own versions of the dark.

Adrian wants his story to be a reminder that being "useful" isn't about how many steps you can take, but about the spirit you bring to those steps.

As he continues his treatment at the Clarendon Chiropractic Clinic in Derry and stays under the watchful eye of his consultants, Adrian remains a living example of what happens when medical science meets holistic care and a community’s love.

He is, in his own words, "forever humbled by the journey", and ready to face whatever the next chapter may bring with a smile and, maybe even a song.