It is Sunday. Earthquake in Bowen. Subsidence in my chest! Doctor came around 8.00am and took off the covering bandages. I had dreaded the moment of seeing the scars. Now I see them I do not know exactly what I feel- not the core revulsion I half expected. More the bemused observer. My chest is sunken with straight lines of wounds left and right going from the centre of the chest around under the arms. They are what they are: an absence, a hollow, a space, a memory. I will keep lookig at my body until I can reframe my image around my new self. I do not feel sorry. I am not grieving. I realise that acceptance will be a process rather than a single act. I shower with help and put on a T shirt with a sparkly design to distract the eye of those not wishing to see the loss. Doctor dismissed the nurse after her examination, she has brought me one of her quilts to share her passion for stitching. It is exquisite for its precision and gentle in its concept with themes of love for family and flowers. I go to visit Merylyn who had breast surgery in the 80’s. With their permission I show my wounds to her and the nurse who is with her. I feel better for sharing the shock and they are not phased and are a great support in that first moment. I don’t think I will be able to show my family yet. Barb will cope with me in the shower. I go home tomorrow Monday. I vow to exercise to flatten my belly to match!