Editor's Note: We are honored to have A.W. Gryphon share her story of diagnosis with us.
Allison W. Gryphon is an Author, Filmmaker, Creator of The Why? Foundation and a Breast Cancer Survivor. You can also find her on facebook >>

It was a Sunday morning. I’d been up early for a pilates class and I was just out of the shower. I had brunch with my friend Joaquim and a matinée with my standing weekend movie buddy, Elissa.
Getting dressed, I went to put my bra on and it didn’t quite fit right. I re-adjusted and then I froze. I was standing in front of my closet in a small room that suddenly seemed massive and empty… and painfully quiet. I think when someone feels a lump for the first time and they know in their gut what it is, the world does truly stop spinning, just for a moment. Just long enough for you to hear your own heart beating, to feel what it means to take a breath and to know not only the full weight of your body, but of your being.
It was Sunday morning so there were no doctors to call or appointments to be had. It would be something to be taken care of the next day. Everything would change. I knew that. So I got myself dressed and went out for a lovely brunch with Joaquim then off to see Julian Schnabel’s new movie with Elissa. I said nothing to my friends and it was a wonderful. The presence of the lump was never far from my thoughts, but I wanted a day of love and friendship, not fear and concern.
My Monday began with a trip to an Urgent Care Clinic, the fastest way I could get the referral for a mammogram. I was at a highly recommended breast center at 7am Tuesday morning. First there was the mammogram, during which the technician suggested we take a few extra views for the doctor, then came the ultra sound, then the doctor, then the second ultra sound and then the smile. That smile of hope and encouragement and knowing how much trouble I was in that I will never forget. “We’re going to do a needle biopsy.” The wonderful doctor said kindly taking my hand and meeting my eyes to hers.
I don’t know how to describe what was going through my head at that moment. Everything. Nothing. I knew what it was and I knew it was happening, but I hadn’t connected those thoughts. It was like I was watching a movie, but it was me.
The following day, I went to work. I went to normal. That’s what I needed to do. Just before lunch my phone rang. It was the same lovely doctor who’d done the needle biopsy the day before. “We were all pulling for you.” She said… And then she told me what I already knew was coming.
It’s one thing to know what’s coming, it’s another matter all together to hear someone say it out loud. Someone you don’t know, but who in one instant will have changed your life forever. I know that what followed were words of support and encouragement. I don’t remember them. I do remember hanging up the phone and looking at the buttons, not quite sure what to do with them. The room was heavy and there were people on the other side of my closed door waiting. People who had assured me that everything would be ok, not just for me, but for themselves. There were friends, colleagues, people I cared about and people I didn’t know out there. Everyone who the explosion was going to hit once I opened the door.
It took almost a half hour. I looked at the door for a long time. It was real for me, but once I opened that door it would be real outside of that room.
The first person I saw was Jude. She was sitting in a chair right outside wide-eyed and steady. I’m not sure if they were all there already or if they heard me come over, but within a moment Shannon, Mary Beth and Jackie were looking back at me amongst a busy office full of people who were about to find out.
I don’t know if the assault of the cancer on me or of the news on everyone else was more jarring. What I do know is that’s the day where I found out what I was made of and when I found out who all of the people on the other side of that door really were.
It was the most devastating and beautiful day of my life. And that is how my battle with stage IIIa breast cancer began on Wednesday April 13, 2011.
