The Instagram videos make for uncomfortable viewing. Posted by 35-year-old Josh Vitner-Jackson, the clips graphically illustrate the reality of living with stage four, incurable cancer.
In some, he lies in a hospital bed attached to multiple tubes – including chemotherapy drips – with an oxygen mask helping him breathe.
In others, he is back home in pyjamas and slippers, painstakingly making his way up the stairs by shuffling backwards on his bottom.
The caption reveals he is attempting the arduous journey to the bathroom on the second floor – somewhere he had been unable to reach for six weeks.
Yet scroll back through Josh’s account and it is difficult to believe you are looking at the same person.
There are pictures of a fit, muscular young man with shoulder-length hair, apparently in the prime of his life.
Just six years ago, Josh was known among friends for his passion for endurance sport. He had run several marathons and even completed the gruelling Wadi Rum race in Jordan, covering 136 miles of desert in just five days.
A successful sales executive, his blossoming career had also recently taken him to the US – first to Los Angeles and then Texas, where he settled in 2018.
Prior to his diagnosis, Josh (pictured left) took part in a number of gruelling fitness challenges, including a 136 mile run in the Jordanian desert which spanned five days
But within two years of the move, Josh found himself alone in a Texas hospital, facing life-saving surgery to remove a golf-ball-sized tumour from his bowel, along with 15 lymph nodes and roughly 40cm of healthy tissue.
Six years on, he struggles to walk and speak and relies on a portable oxygen tank to breathe because of severe damage to his airways after the cancer spread to his lungs.
He is unable to work, needs a wheelchair to get around and spends much of his time travelling back and forth to hospital for chemotherapy – the only treatment currently available to keep his advanced cancer at bay.
‘I’d say I am pretty much disabled,’ says Josh, who is originally from Cambridgeshire. ‘I’ve got 25 yards of cabling attached to my oxygen machine.
‘I’m living out of the downstairs living room. My mum often sleeps on the sofa next to my borrowed hospital bed. I wash with a sponge bath. You have to make do with what you’ve got.’
Josh says he is increasingly seeing stories like his on social media – young people, many of them seemingly fit and healthy, being diagnosed with bowel cancer.
And the figures suggest he is right. Bowel cancer diagnoses among adults under 50 have risen by about 50 per cent since the 1990s, data shows.
Scientists have proposed a host of possible explanations for the disturbing rise – from pollution and food poisoning bugs to diets high in ultra-processed foods.
But, so far, no one knows for certain what is driving it.
Three doctors sent Josh home without adequate investigations, telling him he was suffering a regular bout of constipation and should use laxatives to ease the discomfort
Josh says the majority of young cancer sufferers he knows do not have unhealthy lifestyles
While Josh admits his diet while living in the US was ‘hit and miss’, doctors told him his tumour had probably been growing since he was around 12 – when he ate relatively little junk food.
‘Every person I know who is my age and has cancer is fit and healthy; many of them are runners.’
Josh’s first – and only – symptom appeared in May 2020: a bout of constipation that he put down to not eating enough fibre.
He visited a doctor twice – in person, despite the Covid pandemic – and on both occasions was told he was simply ‘a bit bunged up’ and advised to eat more vegetables.
It never seriously occurred to him that the problem could be a sign of cancer.
‘I thought, I’m only 29 and fit, this is just constipation. But I guess there was also an element of fear, of not wanting to think of that possibility.’
But the abdominal pain grew worse and the gaps between bowel movements stretched to more than a week.
Eventually, Josh went to an urgent care clinic just yards from his apartment, where doctors took an X-ray before sending him home with laxatives.
Within hours, his condition deteriorated dramatically.
‘I woke up in a terrible way,’ Josh recalls. ‘I was awake all night with terrible, chronic pain and my stomach was extremely swollen.’
Last month, he was struck down by a chemotherapy complication which resulted in nearly a month in hospital, including five days spent in intensive care
Josh has seen a dip in his independence over the last 15 months, and now relies on help from his parents and a paid carer for everyday tasks
The following morning, July 4, he ‘staggered’ back to the clinic, where doctors told him they had spotted something suspicious on his X-ray.
A follow-up CT scan revealed a golf-ball-sized tumour in the lower left side of his colon, which doctors feared was at risk of rupturing.
‘The doctor told me I needed to get myself to South Austin hospital in the next 24 hours as the tumour could rupture at any moment, and that was likely to kill me.’
On the morning of July 6, Josh underwent emergency surgery to remove the tumour and surrounding tissue. Doctors also removed 15 nearby lymph nodes – seven of which were cancerous.
He was bedbound for two months while he recovered, before beginning 12 rounds of chemotherapy.
With Covid restrictions preventing his family from travelling to be with him, a friend flew in from Los Angeles to help care for him.
‘I was under lock and key for pretty much all of my treatment and it was super tough,’ he says.
‘Friends and neighbours would deliver food to my doorstep and pick me up to take me to hospital appointments but, apart from that, I didn’t see anyone. I could go for two weeks with virtually no human contact.’
Then, in April 2021, came the news he had desperately hoped for: Josh was given the all-clear.
‘I was like, wow, this is amazing. As long as I stayed cancer-free for five years I’d be clear for life. It felt miraculous.’
But the relief was short-lived. In the middle of 2022, a routine monitoring scan picked up ‘little black dots’ on his lungs.
Initially, doctors suspected they were scarring from a recent Covid infection. But a subsequent biopsy confirmed what Josh feared: the cancer had returned and spread to his lungs.
‘I’d moved up to stage four colon cancer that was incurable. Basically, you’ve got it until you go.’
Josh’s hopes now rest on chemotherapy controlling the disease for as long as his body can withstand the treatment.
The past two years have been particularly brutal. After moving back to the UK, he spent more than 50 nights in NHS hospitals in 2025 alone, battling repeated lung infections – one of which ultimately led to emergency heart surgery.
Just last month, Josh spent five days in intensive care after suffering an allergic-like reaction to one of his chemotherapy drugs.
‘I felt like I’d had a stroke. I couldn’t feel my face, my tongue was lolling out and my airways closed up,’ he says.
Today, breathing feels like ‘sucking through a straw’ because of inflammation in his lungs caused by the cancer.
There has, however, been some encouraging news: recent scans show the disease is stable.
‘It’s not going to explode out of nowhere, shall we say. It’s very much flat. But it’s still there.’
Josh lives alone and relies on visits from his mother and a paid carer to help with everyday tasks. He can no longer work and says he has been overwhelmed by the response to an online fundraiser he launched to help pay for private and experimental treatments.
The GoFundMe page, set up in October, has raised more than £120,000.
He has also recently founded a charity, Chat Cancer, aimed at creating a community for young adults living with the disease.
‘The first time I went into the chemo clinic I felt totally alone,’ he says. ‘There was no one I could relate to, who was my age and at my stage of life.
‘I wanted to build something that allows young people like me to get together, chew the fat and complain about this disease.’
Josh has his own theory about what may have triggered his illness – which, despite the sharp rise among younger adults, remains far more common in older people.
‘My parents were getting divorced around the time that the growth in my bowel developed,’ he says. ‘It caused huge emotional stress and, from what I’ve read, there’s a strong link between psychological stress and gut health.’
There is evidence that stress can affect the gut, but no proof that psychological stress causes bowel cancer.
Instead, scientists investigating the rise in younger patients are increasingly looking much earlier in life – at exposure to harmful bacteria or environmental toxins during childhood, or potentially even before birth.
One of the most intriguing clues involves colibactin, a toxin produced by certain strains of E. coli bacteria in the gut.
A major international study published last year found tell-tale DNA mutations caused by colibactin were more than three times as common in bowel tumours from patients under 40 as they were in those aged over 70.
The findings raise the possibility that exposure to the toxin during childhood could inflict genetic damage that eventually develops into cancer decades later.
Professor Ludmil Alexandrov, of the University of California, San Diego, who led the research, said: ‘If someone acquires one of these drivers by the time they’re 10 years old, they could be decades ahead of schedule for developing colorectal cancer, getting it at age 40 instead of 60.’
