I sat at the top table, glancing around, smiling. Seeing Mickey way in the back with his wife.
He looked good, so did she, and they had eyes for each other. I turned to those luminaries at my table.
Each of them had a partner. I was the only one who was singular. Husbands and wives, talking to each other, turning to speak to another, turning back to speak to each other, and me, sipping wine, pretending to listen to discussions beside me or directed to me.
For a few moments I felt so alone I wanted to run out of the room, but reminded myself that I was the guest of honour. This was my Award Dinner. This was for me.
For me, a single forty nine year old woman, who had lost any form of outside life for medicine. Who when, everyone went home with their husband or their wife, I would go home with my Award.