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   He calls me Muse because he says I inspire him. Not sure what I inspire him to do but I’ve been called worse in my forty years on the planet so I’m good with it.
   Did I name him Tim? I don’t think so. I think he told me his name somewhere in the beginning but I can’t give you a specific instance.
   There you have it.
   Me and Tim.
   My personal side effect, the one that might possibly come down on the side of mentally unstable, or in laymen’s terms, crazy.
   The thing is, you won’t know if I’m talking to him or not, so how can you judge? I could be talking to him right this minute for all you know. The doctors faced the same problem and dropped it from my medical records. I think the psychiatrist suggested it.


   The lung cancer diagnosis was the hardest part. Most of us who receive that bit of news react the same way – tears, cussing and realizing if you are at a bank robbery you can step up and take the bullet.
   Then treatment begins and so does the race. Against time, and the red wolf who will stay right on your heels in case you falter.
   My dedicated medical teams did not fail.
   My life was saved.
   The expense was enormous.
   I lost everything.