by Tanya Sullivan
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The salon's nearly out of toilet paper, laundry soap and cream for coffee. That means you'll be making a trip to Costco.
Also known as ‘the most wretched soul
sucking place on earth.’
Awwwwwwwww, do I have to?
Yep. This time last year, you couldn't push a
shopping cart 2 feet all by yourself, be exposed to big groups of people, or haul shit loads of obnoxiously large boxes of paper products up a flight of stairs.
I don't have to. I get to.
Your gas tank is nearly empty and that means having to leave the comfort of your new duvet and fluffy pillows to avoid running out of fuel on the way to your oncology appointment. Again.
Awwwwwwwww, do I have to?
Yep. This time last year you were depending on others to drive you around. A real passenger princess. Your royal highness sometimes wondered what would take you first; the cancer, or their driving?
I don't have to. I get to.
He forgot to take the chicken out to defrost for dinner. (He had one job. One job) and now it's your job to pivot and figure out what you'll have instead on the fly.
Awwwwwwwww, do I have to?
Yep. This time last year he did most of the cooking when you couldn't. Which pretty much meant instructing him on every step from the couch and then praising how good it was and how grateful you were for not having to do anything.
I don't have to. I get to.
They called again. Are you still able to make it for dinner? You promised 3 weeks ago that you'd trek out to that massively loud, not so appealing restaurant to have supper with so and so. This involves fighting traffic over the Knight Street Bridge on a Friday at 5:30pm. Ugh.
Awwwwwwwww, do I have to?
Yep. You're finally able to socialize with people who worried about you and just want the opportunity to celebrate how much better you are now. Besides, you don't recognize a damn thing on the menu and have no idea what to order without them.
I don't have to. I get to.
You bought tickets months ago for that fringe festival interpretive dance showcase your friend is in, just to appease her. You never actually had any intention of going.
Awwwwwwwww, do I have to?
Yep. It'll suck. But not as much as having cancer.
Maybe.
Tanya D Sullivan is an entrepreneur and professional truth-teller living with incurable ovarian cancer. She tends to write about the things most people spend a lifetime trying to avoid: mortality, grief, aging, regret, identity, and what remains when the illusion of endless time disappears. Often laced with humour, irreverence, and the occasional uncomfortable truth, her reflections explore the space between living and dying, where honesty becomes a form of freedom. Her perspective is not about beating cancer or finding silver linings. It is about accepting reality, telling the truth and choosing to live with intention anyway. A passionate advocate for grief literacy, bereavement support, and compassionate care, Tanya believes we are often far better at preparing people for milestones than we are at supporting them through loss.