Help Sally Tiska Rice Fight Breast Cancer

Sally Tiska Rice, a local artist of the Berkshires, needs your help and prayers.

On November 4, 2024, during an ultrasound, Sally was told she had cancer. They performed biopsies that day. Then, she received the call confirming the biopsies on November 7, 2024, with TRIPLE NEGATIVE BREAST CANCER, INVASIVE DUCTAL CARCINOMA, GRADE 3/3. This cancer is a high-grade cancer. This means the medical team is moving quickly to get Sally the best care she needs on this medical journey.

Her insurance did not cover genetic testing, which helps significantly determine the type of proliferation signatures to determine treatment and clinical variables needed.

Her insurance also will not cover a PET Scan (Positron Emission Tomography Scan), which can help determine whether the cancer has spread to the lymph nodes or to other areas of the body. (Around $8000)

This additional financial burden is just the beginning of a new medical journey. If anyone has it in their heart to help offset these or any other medical care needs in the future, it will be such a help.

Sally’s daughter Sarah-Jane has asked me to start this GoFundMe with the approval of Sally and her husband Mark. They are not ones to ask for help, but they have agreed to let me do this for them, again with the new battle.

Sally is still working with doctors from previous medical challenges, but Sally is a fighter and has her granddaughter Elizabeth to give her the strength to fight this.

This has been a long road for Sally medically and for her family. So, if you could, please consider helping Sally and her family during this difficult time.

From Sally Tiska Rice, written 11/30/24…

I’m writing this update with so much gratitude for all of you—your messages, calls, cards (I mean, who wouldn’t prefer cheerful cards over junk mail fliers and bills?), beautiful flowers, and even my favorite dark chocolates have meant the world to me. And to the one of you who sent artful Wonder Woman pieces—you know me so well!

Since so many have been asking for updates, I thought it would be best to share everything here. Plus, let’s be honest, I enjoy writing, and this way I can save my vocal cords for singing along to ‘80s hits when the mood strikes.

As some of you know, I’ve been recovering from a spinal injury that led to four major surgeries and a partially paralyzed left leg. Add to that some lung nodules, pleurisy, and pericarditis, and I was already feeling like I’d hit the medical jackpot. Then, on November 4th, the universe decided I needed more excitement—it handed me a breast cancer diagnosis.

On November 7th, it was confirmed through three biopsies: Triple Negative Breast Cancer, Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Grade 3/3 (because if I’m going to do this, I’m doing it all the way). It’s rare, aggressive, and frankly, not the kind of overachieving I was aiming for.

The plan is now in place. I have an incredible team of doctors at Dana Farber and locally, and they’re pulling out all the stops. I’ll have a port placed on December 3rd (unless I can sweet-talk my way into an earlier cancellation slot), and chemo begins on December 4th. Originally, we were looking at surgery followed by three months of chemo, then six months, and now… we’re in it for the long haul—over a year of aggressive treatment to shrink the tumor before surgery.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, yes, I will be losing my hair. If I’m going bald, I plan to do it with style—think glamorous turbans with brooches and maybe even a platinum blonde Marilyn Monroe wig for special occasions. (If any of my fabulous friends in remission have wigs gathering dust, I’d love to try before I buy them because, fun fact: natural wigs are expensive!)

Here’s something wild—this tumor (which is about the size of an egg) still didn’t show up on my most recent mammogram. I’ve had five mammograms in six months, and not one caught it. Thankfully, my gynecologist listened to me, ordered an ultrasound, and boom—there it was. Ladies, please, if something feels off, don’t wait. Advocate for yourselves. It’s no exaggeration to say it could save your life.

Now, I’ll admit, I’m a little angry. We eat healthy, exercise regularly, and yet here we are. Honestly, I can’t help but laugh at the irony—maybe I should’ve partied more, worked less brutal hours, and danced in the moonlight more often. After all, girls just wanna have fun, right?

Thank you for being part of my village during this wild ride. Your love, support, and humor help lighten the load more than I can say. I’m here for the fight, with a smile, a few wisecracks, and maybe even a platinum blonde wig.

I love you all

Sally