My name is Clinton. I’m 42 years old, I live in Australia, and I’m fighting a rare and aggressive form of thyroid cancer called medullary thyroid cancer.

Unfortunately, chemotherapy and radiation are not considered the best or first-line treatments for this type of cancer. I’ve already undergone numerous surgeries, which helped for a short time, but despite that, the cancer has continued to show moderate and increasing signs of progression throughout my body.

Since June 2024, I’ve been receiving a medication that is quite literally keeping me alive. Because my cancer is rare, this treatment is not currently supported by Australia’s Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme (PBS). Until recently, the pharmaceutical company had been providing it to me through a compassionate access program.

A short time ago, that support was withdrawn. With utter disbelief, my wife, my children, and I were told that the cost of staying alive would now fall on us.

I work as many hours as my health allows. While the side effects of the treatment are relatively minimal, they do make things difficult at times. Still, the success of this medication far outweighs any of those challenges.

The results have been better and faster than my medical team expected. The treatment has stopped existing tumour progression, no new tumours have appeared on scans so far, and my quality of life has improved dramatically.

But without continued access to this targeted therapy, all of that progress will be lost.

Without this medication, my prognosis becomes extremely serious.

With it, I have time — time with my family, time for the treatment to keep working, and time to keep fighting.

The cost of this medication is $8,000 per month. This is simply not something my family and I can sustain on our own, no matter how hard we try.

Asking for help like this isn’t easy. I’ve always believed in standing on my own feet. But this is bigger than pride — this is about survival.

Every donation, no matter the size, goes directly toward funding the medication that is keeping me here. If you’re unable to donate, sharing this page means just as much.

Your kindness doesn’t just help pay for medicine — it helps buy time, hope, and the chance for me to keep living. It means my wife keeps her husband, and my children keep their dad.

Thank you for reading, for caring, and for helping me continue this fight.

With gratitude,

Clinton James