Unlocking Brownie

Unlocking Brownie Geordie|Husband|Dad|Ex-Semi Pro|Newcastle Fan��| Living with Locked-in-syndrome| Sharing ups&downs

11/09/2026

🏡 Coming home is just around the corner… and already, big changes are being made.

We’ve tried this before.

And looking back now, I think we were both pretty clueless about what caring for someone with needs like mine actually meant at home.

Last time, Aly was basically classed as my 24/7 carer, with four care visits a day mainly to help with things she physically couldn’t do herself.

Because, despite what she might think after a couple of pints 🍻 , she was never going to hoy a fully grown bloke around the house on her own. 😂

But everything in between those visits?

That was Aly.

There were no split shifts.
No clocking off.
No “that’s me finished for the day.”

She was my carer through the day and evening, while also looking after the kids, the house and Norman, who, to be fair, probably has more demands than I do. 🐶😂

And she did it for months.

Not because anyone forced her to, but because she loved me and genuinely believed that was what she had to do if she wanted to keep me at home.

Until eventually, she dropped.

And I got frustrated too. Not because of her. Because all I could do was sit and watch the person I loved struggle, knowing I couldn’t physically take any of that weight from her.

Looking back, neither of us should ever have been put in that position.

We thought having care visits meant we had enough support.

We didn’t.

There was no real plan to prevent carer crisis or breakdown. We were surviving rather than living.

But we learned from it.

This time, we’ve spoken up.

We’ve asked questions. We’ve been honest about what didn’t work. We’ve stopped pretending love alone can make an unsustainable care package sustainable.

And this time is going to look very different.

Aly will still have a caring role in my life. She wouldn’t have it any other way, especially through the evenings.

But the difference is, she gets to clock off too.

She gets to be my wife.

She gets to be Mam.

She gets to have a life outside of caring for me.

And knowing proper support is going to be there so that the responsibility doesn’t fall entirely onto her shoulders is HUGE for both of us.

So this is a shout out to every unpaid carer and every family trying to make care at home work.

Speak up.

If something isn’t sustainable, say it.

Ask what happens if you become ill, exhausted or simply can’t continue at the same level.

Ask what support is available before you reach crisis point, not afterwards.

And please don’t measure how much you love someone by how much you can physically and emotionally carry.

No member of staff would be expected to work a full day shift, then an evening shift, then remain on call overnight, every single day with no days off.

So why do we sometimes expect unpaid carers to?

We learned that one the hard way.

This time we’re doing things differently.

Because coming home shouldn’t just mean I get my life back.

It should mean we both do. ❤️

Look after the carers too. Without them, the whole system falls apart.

10/09/2026

Since coming to Chase Park, I’ve pretty much kept myself to myself.

There’s an activities team here for the residents, and they do some fantastic things. They organise all sorts of activities and bring residents together.

I’ve never really got involved.

Not because I don’t want to. The truth is, I feel uncomfortable because I can’t speak. I know in my head that I’d probably be absolutely fine, but when you can’t communicate the way you used to, it can make you feel like you don’t belong.

Yesterday, on my way to the gym, I had to go through the canteen.

There was an activity taking place, and the room was full of residents.

And something suddenly hit me.

I’m lucky.

I’m not saying that to show off. I’m certainly not saying I’m better than anybody else. Quite the opposite.

I know how devastating a stroke or neurological injury can be. I see people here fighting their own battles every single day. Everyone has a different story. Everyone has lost something.

But yesterday made me stop and think about what I haven’t lost.

I’m lucky that my mind is still fully there.

I’m lucky that I still know who I am.

I’m lucky that I still have my personality, my sense of humour, my memories, my opinions and my ability to understand the world around me.

And yes… somehow, despite everything, I’ve even managed to keep my good looks. 😂

My body has changed.

I can’t talk.

I can’t walk.

There are things I used to do without even thinking that I can no longer do.

But I’m still me.

The stroke may have taken away my ability to walk and talk, but it didn’t take away Brownie.

And I think sometimes that’s what gets lost when you’re living with a disability.

You become so focused on everything you can’t do anymore that you forget to appreciate everything that’s still there.

Yesterday, standing there looking around that room, I realised just how much I still have.

And for once, instead of thinking about what the stroke took from me…

I thought about what it couldn’t take.

Me.

I’m still Brownie.

And I’m bloody lucky to be. ❤️

TAKE NOTICE.Not because every movement is perfect.Not because every day is easy.But because the impossible can become po...
09/09/2026

TAKE NOTICE.

Not because every movement is perfect.

Not because every day is easy.

But because the impossible can become possible when you refuse to stop believing.

What you see might be a person sitting in a gym, playing a game with a sensor on his nappa — for those not from Newcastle, that’s the head! 😂

You might see me swaying from right to left, trying to avoid objects while sitting independently.

You might see me trying to kick a football.

But what you don’t see is everything that came before that moment.

You don’t see the hours in the gym.

You don’t see the effort.

You don’t see the frustration when my body doesn’t do what my mind is asking it to do.

You don’t see the days when something that should be simple feels like climbing a mountain.

You don’t see the determination it takes to come back and try again.

And you definitely don’t see what’s happening inside my head.

Because inside my head, I can already see it.

ONE DAY.

One day I’ll get that leg to do exactly what I want it to do.

One day I’ll connect with that football.

One day I’ll put my laces through it. ⚽️

Maybe that sounds like a small goal.

But for me, that moment will represent everything.

Every gym session.

Every failed attempt.

Every wobble.

Every frustration.

Every time I wanted to give up but didn’t.

Every person who encouraged me when I needed it most.

Every single time I chose to believe that there was still more I could achieve.

That’s why I don’t use the word impossible lightly.

Because impossible is often just a word we give something before we’ve discovered a way to make it happen.

So if you’re fighting your own battle right now…

If you’re working towards something that feels miles away…

If people have told you that you can’t…

Take notice.

Don’t let today’s limitations decide tomorrow’s possibilities.

You don’t need to prove everything today.

You just need to keep moving forward.

One session.

One movement.

One attempt.

One day at a time.

Believe before you achieve.

Because sometimes the biggest victories start with nothing more than a thought in your head that says:

“ONE DAY, I WILL.”

And I believe that day is coming.

ONE DAY, I’LL PUT MY LACES THROUGH THAT BALL.

Just watch me. ❤️

If it was1982
09/09/2026

If it was1982

08/09/2026

💔 Last week absolutely broke me.

Finding out my old care team couldn’t take me back on was devastating.

We’d built something really special with a couple of the lads in particular. They were amazing with the kids, understood my needs, knew what I needed without me having to constantly explain.

Most importantly, we trusted them.

So losing that felt huge.

My forever-pessimistic brain immediately thought, “This is going to take forever.”

I honestly couldn’t see how we were going to find the right people again.

Then yesterday happened…

Two potential providers were found.

After thinking this search was going to take ages, that felt like a massive step forward. ❤️

Does the thought of starting again scare me?

Absolutely.

New faces.
New routines.
New relationships.
New people to trust.

And having to explain everything all over again.

But I’m trying to look at it differently.

Not as starting again.

As starting fresh.

A new chapter.
New beginnings.
A chance to do things differently.

I’ve said before that we had absolutely no training for living through this nightmare.

And the truth is…

We failed. Twice.

But I refuse to be ashamed of that.

Those failures were painful. They were brutal lessons. But they taught us things that no training ever could.

We have experience now.

We know more.
We’re more prepared.
We know what we need.
We know what questions to ask.
We know what works.
And, perhaps most importantly, we know what doesn’t.

We haven’t just dipped our toe in the water anymore…

We’ve been thrown into the deep end, nearly drowned, and somehow learnt to swim.

So yes, I’m scared.

I’m nervous.
I’m apprehensive.
And I’ll probably overthink absolutely everything. 😂

But underneath all of that…

I’m hopeful.

Because this isn’t the end.

It’s another beginning.

And this time, we’re facing it with experience, knowledge, lessons learned…

and a hell of a lot more fight. ❤️

Here’s to the next chapter.

Let’s hope this one is a little kinder to us. 🤞🏻

07/09/2026

Locked-in syndrome is mental 😂

I can calculate the payout on a 19-fold accumulator featuring teams from leagues so obscure they sound like someone’s made them up after a few pints.

I know the odds, the potential return, the cash-out value and precisely which bastard of a team is going to concede in the 96th minute.

But walking and talking? Nah, mate. System overload. Pick one. 😂

Priorities, eh?

06/09/2026

With me going home it will be a lot easier

😂 RIGHT… WE NEED YOUR HELP! 😂

We LOVE making stupid/funny TikToks together… so we’re handing control over to you lot. 👀

🎬 CHALLENGE BROWNIE & ALY! 🎬

👇 Drop a link below to a TikTok you want us to recreate.

The funnier, more ridiculous or more chaotic, the better. 😂

We’re game! 😏

📲 Copy the TikTok link & paste it in the comments below!

We’ll pick our favourites and recreate them…

What could possibly go wrong? 😂😂

GO GO GO 👇👇👇

05/09/2026

There was a time when I had to be fed.

Not because I didn’t understand what was happening. Not because I didn’t have the mental capacity to do it myself.

I was fully aware.

I knew what I wanted. I knew what I was trying to do. I just couldn’t physically do it.

And honestly? It made me feel like a baby.

Having to sit there and receive help with something as basic as eating was one of the hardest pills I’ve ever had to swallow. There is something incredibly humbling about knowing your mind is still there, knowing you are capable of understanding, but having your body take away your independence.

Because of my obsession with food, there was always a tiny chance I might eventually be able to feed myself again.

Maybe a 1 in 100 chance.

But feeding myself independently?

That felt like a 1 in 100,000 shot.

And yet… somehow, here I am.

With the help of a modified fork and spoon, I can now feed myself.

I cannot explain what that feels like.

To some people, it might just look like picking up a fork and taking a bite.

To me, it represents something so much bigger.

It represents independence.

It represents dignity.

It represents getting a tiny piece of my life back.

It means I don’t always have to wait for someone else to feed me. I can do something for myself again.

And that feeling is HUGE.

I think sometimes we take the simplest things for granted because we never imagine a day when they might be taken away from us.

I certainly never imagined that feeding myself would become something I would have to fight so hard to regain.

But it did.

And now, every time I pick up that modified fork and spoon, I’m reminded just how far I’ve come.

Something that once felt impossible is now something I can do.

And honestly?

It makes SUCH a difference.

Never underestimate the things that seem “basic.”

When you’ve lost them, getting them back can feel like getting a piece of yourself back too. ❤️

05/09/2026

Tell me to shut up

Because this is coming from a man who used to waste entire weekends recovering from the drink the night before.

Not Saturdays, to be fair — I played football then and took that VERY seriously 😂

But so many other days?

Wasted.

Days I could have spent doing something. Seeing someone. Making memories. Living.

And that’s the bit that hits me now.

You genuinely don’t know what’s around the corner.

We all live as though we’ve got unlimited time.

We put things off.
We say “another day”.
We assume there’ll be another weekend.
Another holiday.
Another chance.

But none of us are promised that.

So, for what it’s worth, take it from someone who has wasted more time than he’d like to admit:

Don’t waste a second.

Go.
Do it.
Say it.
Book it.
Call them.
Make the memory.

Because one day, you might look back and realise the thing you thought you had plenty of…

was time.

Been asking Aly for weeks to come and see this with me 😂🎬She wasn’t keen at all, and even though she’s been poorly, we f...
04/09/2026

Been asking Aly for weeks to come and see this with me 😂🎬

She wasn’t keen at all, and even though she’s been poorly, we finally made it this morning!

Obviously the day had to start with a McDonald’s breakfast… because I can 😂🍳🍔 Then it was off to IMAX to see The Odyssey.

And after all that protesting… ALY LOVED IT! 😂🙄 Knew she would.

Me? I’d give it a solid 6–7/10. Worth the watch, but I think Aly enjoyed it more than I did!

McDonald’s, cinema and a morning out together — not a bad Friday at all ❤️🎬

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