The Battle I'm Fighting

At 29, I was diagnosed with colon cancer. Surgery, chemotherapy, the fight of my life. I thought I'd won.

Then it came back. Stage 4.

Suddenly, this wasn't a single battle—it was an ongoing war. And wars require resources I no longer have alone.

I'm now on round 39 of chemotherapy. Multiple surgeries. Countless hospital stays. Regular scans, treatments, and the constant medical management that comes with fighting for your life.

But here's what most people don't realise about cancer: the NHS provides extraordinary care, but fighting to not just survive but thrive requires going beyond standard treatment protocols.

Why I Need Your Help Now

I've reached the point where I need a medical war chest—resources to access complementary therapies, cutting-edge treatments, and recovery protocols that aren't covered by standard care.

I'm not giving up. I'm gearing up.

But I can't do this alone anymore.

Who I Am and Why I'm Still Fighting

Before cancer tried to define me, I was someone who paired adventure with purpose.

I ran 6 marathons in 5 days through Jordan's Wadi Rum desert for charity. I completed the Paris Marathon for Parkinson's UK. After my first round of chemotherapy, I ran the Austin Half Marathon supporting cancer research.

Endurance, mental and physical, has always been my language.

I've spent my life giving back through adventure, philanthropy, and service. Now I'm asking for help to continue my own fight.

The War Chest: What I'm Building

I'm raising to fund the comprehensive treatment approach I need to not just survive, but to thrive and eventually beat this disease.

This will include:

Specific Chemotherapy

Advanced Testing

Hyperbaric Oxygen and Red Light Therapy

Supplements

IV Infusions

Why This Matters

Every pound raised isn't just paying for treatment—it's investing in hope.

It's funding the complementary therapies that help me recover faster between chemotherapy rounds so I can maintain quality of life while fighting.

It's accessing cutting-edge treatments that may give me the edge I need.

It's building the resources necessary to wage this war effectively, not just defensively.

What I'm Fighting For

I'm fighting to be here for my friends and family who've supported me through every treatment.

I'm fighting to continue coaching young adults through their own cancer journeys, because they need someone who truly understands.

I'm fighting to prove that Stage 4 doesn't mean game over.

I'm fighting because I still have so much life to live, work to do, and people to help.

The Honest Truth

Cancer at any stage is expensive. Stage 4 cancer that requires ongoing, indefinite treatment? It's financially devastating.

I've depleted my savings. I've restructured my life. I've done everything I can on my own.

But this disease doesn't care about individual resources. It requires a community effort.

This is my ask. This is my war chest. This is how I keep fighting.

How You Can Help

Any amount makes a difference.

Can't contribute financially? Share this campaign. Your network might include someone who can help or knows someone who can.

Every share is ammunition. Every pound is armour. Every act of support is hope.

What Happens Next

I'll provide regular updates on treatment progress, how funds are being used, and the difference your support is making.

Transparency matters. You're not just donating—you're becoming part of my fight.

The Difference Between Surviving and Thriving

Standard treatment keeps me alive. But I'm not fighting just to survive, I'm fighting to thrive.

To continue coaching others through their battles.

To keep sharing what I'm learning about resilience under fire.

To prove that with the right resources and support, Stage 4 doesn't have to be the end of the story.

I've shown up for 39 rounds of chemotherapy (so far) when every cell in my body wanted to quit.

I'm not quitting now. But I need reinforcements.

Will you join my fight?

Every warrior needs an army. Will you be part of mine?

With profound gratitude,

Josh Vintner-Jackson

P.S. If you've followed my journey on LinkedIn or Substack (Resilience Reborn), you know I don't ask for help easily. This isn't comfortable. But neither is Stage 4 cancer. And I've learned that strength sometimes means asking for what you need to keep fighting.