Tanner and Shay Wright were an otherwise typical newly married couple when they got the news that most 20-somethings would never expect: a terminal cancer diagnosis meant their lives as they knew it would be coming to an end sooner than they could have imagined.
Tanner was just 25 years old when he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer in November 2020. “It’s been a rollercoaster ride since,” he tells PEOPLE in a recent interview conducted during one of his chemotherapy treatments.
Tanner began undergoing treatment within four weeks of his diagnosis and in the last four years has undergone more than 50 rounds of chemo, roughly 50 rounds of radiation, at least six major surgeries and dozens of other procedures.
“The first year was very treatment focused,” says Shay, noting that the routine treatments have been punctuated by good news — doctors at one point said the cancer was gone — and bad, like an eight-month bout with sepsis that left Tanner hospitalized and temporarily unable to receive treatment due to a compromised immune system.
Tanner and Shay Wright.
Shay Wright
“While he was fighting infection in the hospital, the cancer spread to his lungs,” Shay explains. “At this point, the treatment he’s getting is to extend his life, not to achieve a cure, because we’re pretty far past that point.”
The couple, who have been married for six years, were told in February 2023 that Tanner’s cancer was no longer curable. Doctors estimated that he would have two to five years left.
The grim prognosis would be tough on anyone. But Tanner and Shay have leaned on one another — and on a community that’s rallied around them on social media, which Shay has used as something of a living diary to showcase the couple’s bucket list adventures in recent months.
Some of that has included travel — to Ireland for a vow renewal, to Disney World, Mexico and Italy — as well as more personal goals, like Star Wars superfan Tanner’s in-person meeting with Luke Skywalker himself, actor Mark Hamill.
Star Wars and its themes of light versus dark have always resonated with Tanner, and never moreso than now. He and his wife even have matching “Never tell me the odds” tattoos, featuring the line famously said by Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back.
“At one point, doctors were trying to get me prepped for a liver transplant and there was an oncologist who said, ‘This kid’s gonna be dead in a year. Why waste organs on this?’ And that line from Star Wars really stuck with me,” Tanner says.
He continues: “When I was first diagnosed, doctors said I would have maybe a year. And I’ve gotten almost four years. Some of that was in the hospital and not great. But I’ve also gotten to do fun things. To spend time with Shay, to travel. I got to meet Mark Hamill.”
Tanner acknowledges that he does have a few other bucket list items — he’d love to meet Star Wars actors Harrison Ford and Hayden Christensen, for example — but says that he is proud of the life that he’s experienced thus far.
And part of that life, for someone with a terminal diagnosis, is accepting death.
“I think it’s important to talk about death, especially for other people in my situation,” Tanner muses. “This is something you want to prep for. You don’t want your spouse to have to plan your funeral and maybe not even have enough money to do so.”
Part of that prep has been in hiring a death doula — someone who can help the couple with end-of-life planning and explore how Tanner wants to be remembered, both in life and death.
In May, the couple hosted a living funeral for Tanner, one with a red carpet at a movie theater in which attendees watched a film about his life.
The idea was sparked by a game played in Shay’s family — one aptly called “the funeral game.”
“It’s a game where you just say something nice or thoughtful about the person — which is ironic, isn’t it? That at a funeral, that’s when you say nice things about someone,” Tanner says with a laugh.
His own living funeral, he says, allowed him “to hear the things that people had to say about me and to be reminded of different times and memories I’ve had. I felt really loved.”
Tanner and Shay Wright with their dog.
Shay Wright
Other plans for the future include kids — which meant creating and freezing embryos in the hopes that one day Shay can have Tanner’s children.
“It’s very sad thinking about my future without Tanner,” Shay says through tears. “Usually when you think about babies, it’s really exciting. In this case, it’s definitely sad. But we have tried to be really intentional with our time together and make it as easy as it can be.”
As members of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, the two say that much of their strength derives from their faith.
“We believe in the concept of being married for eternity. Death doesn’t sever that bond,” Tanner says.
But the two also rely on humor and therapy to get them through. Shay, a full-time therapist who received her master’s degree while Tanner was undergoing treatment, says that talking about their fears is crucial.
“You have to let yourself feel those emotions and ask, ‘What are the things that are really important to you to pass on?’ ” Shay says. “It’s not just about focusing on death, but about life, as well.”
Tanner echoes the sentiment, saying his diagnosis has forced both him and Shay to be vulnerable with one another in a way most 20-somethings wouldn’t fathom.
“If you’re crying and your partner asks what’s wrong, you have to be honest and say, ‘I’m scared of dying. I’m scared of what that process is going to be like.’ It’s hard to hear someone you love talking about that,” he adds.
He continues: “There’s no perfect life plan, right? I think we all fall into the trap of — I’m going to go to high school, then college, and have a career, and have kids. Something like this happens and that goes out the window. But that doesn’t mean your life is over. It just means you have to rearrange things.”
Tanner says that coming to terms with his own death has allowed him the emotional availability required to fully enjoy the time he has left.
“With Shay, it feels like I’m helping her beyond my life. Even though I’ll be dead, we’ve done things to make that transition easier for her,” Tanner says. “It’s going to be super difficult. But I feel good because I feel like I’ve done everything I can. There’s a lot of peace you can find in that.”
For Shay, the thought of life without Tanner feels impossible. So, in their time left, she is saving bits and pieces however she can, weaving together a digital scrapbook of sorts that she can refer back to in the coming years.
“Not only are we husband and wife, but we’re best friends. He’s my person,” Shay says. “I’m really big on documenting our lives — through photos and videos, recordings of his voice, and him being silly with our dog. Someday, I want to show our story to any future kids that come from our embryos so they can know Tanner and who he is.”
As Tanner reflects on the years behind him, he feels less fearful about what’s ahead — and confident in the knowledge that he spent his time in a meaningful way, with the person who means the most by his side.
“I feel like I’ve been given so much and I’ve gotten so much it almost feels selfish to ask for more,” he says. “If tomorrow something terrible happens and my doctor says, ‘You’re going to die in ten minutes,’ I would feel very satisfied with my life.”
