Curses!
Just when things were going so well, a setback. We hope it's not a major problem, but a setback nonetheless.
Do you remember that post-surgery, I had a fistula in my neck, which wouldn't heal, and was the main reason why I was prevented from eating and drinking, until the medics were happy that it was fully mended? Well, yesterday evening, I was happily chomping on my mashed banana and custard, when I noticed some moisture on my neck. A quick check in the mirror revealed that, fully three months after the wound had repaired itself, it had opened up again!
This morning, the hole had grown, and was attractively oozing a yellow pus, not entirely dissimilar in appearance to my unfinished custard. So, off to the familiar surroundings of Barts for Catherine and myself today, where we were seen by the registrar Charlie, who decided to do a biopsy and put me through a CT scan. We're all hoping it's nothing nasty, but we won't get the results until next Wednesday. We will, of course, let you know the news as soon as we receive it, but please keep fingers and toes crossed.
In the meantime, I'm back to nil-by-mouth, in order to avoid the risk of infection. Just when I was getting the taste for yogurt!
Here are ten songs about holes.
1. Holes - Mercury Rev
2. Wholly Holy - Marvin Gaye
3. My Bucket's Got A Hole In It - Hank Williams
4. Falling In A Deep Hole - Emmylou Harris
5. Hole Wide World - Wreckless Eric
6. The Bottomless Hole - The Handsome Family
7. Hole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin
8. Fixing A Hole - The Beatles
9. Hole In My Shoe - Traffic
10. Hi Hole Silver Lining - Jeff Beck
RP
Tuesday, 7 December 2010
Saturday, 4 December 2010
The Perfect Match
Hello Again
Just a quick blog today, because it's Saturday morning and I've got a busy day ahead of me. I'm in a fever of excitement and a bit of apprehension, as I'm going to my first football match of the season: Chelsea vs Everton at Stamford Bridge.
Yes, I'm being allowed out on my own for the trip down to Parsons Green, where I will meet my good friends Barney and Richard in the excellent White Horse pub, for a couple of pre-match pints. That is to say that they will have a couple of pre-match pints. I may take a chance on half a shandy.
Although I've been experimenting at home with various alcoholic libations, I'm just not up to it yet. I'm not sure whether this is because my mouth is still raw from the radiotherapy, or that my taste buds have changed, with the result that I just don't like it. What a confession, and how the mighty have fallen!
Anyway, after an afternoon of sitting in the cold watching my team being thoroughly humiliated, expending my energies shouting incoherent abuse at the ref, players and rival supporters, I expect to be pretty exhausted, but I'm looking forward to it.
Of course, the practicalities for a day out when one is fed by tube can get a bit complicated. I can't just get a bag of chips on the way to the match, and I can hardly inject my feed into my stomach in the middle of the pub. Ever resourceful, Catherine has been in touch with the hotel at Stamford Bridge, and arranged for them to have a room for me to feed myself after the game, at no cost. What nice people.
She Who Must Be Obeyed is herself off on her own excursion today, with her girlie friends, for a pampering, drinking and who knows what else overnighter at a hotel in Essex. Lucy is going to something called the Jingle Bell Ball at the O2, so this evening I'll be on my own with Molly the dog. Still, it gives me the opportunity to enjoy Everton's glorious victory on Match of the Day in peace.
On another matter, I sort of returned to work this week. I've commenced the limited working from home as prescribed by the doctor. I've reinstated my access to the office network, to find 2,500 emails waiting for me. As there was an out-of-office message returned to any senders, and most people who worked with me regularly knew about my situation, there was a high proportion of Spam, I've still spent my first couple of days back wading through that lot.
Here are ten songs which could be about football.
1. Can I Kick It? - A Tribe Called Quest
2. God's Footballer - Billy Bragg
3. All I Want For Christmas Is A Dukla Prague Away Kit - Half Man Half Biscuit
4. I Don't Want To Go To Chelsea - Elvis Costello & The Attractions
5. Kickabout - Teenage Fanclub
6. Park Life - Blur
7. You Win Again - Hank Williams
8. Keep On Movin' - Soul II Soul
9. Born To Lose - Ray Charles
10. The Beautiful Game - Acoustic Alchemy
Just a quick blog today, because it's Saturday morning and I've got a busy day ahead of me. I'm in a fever of excitement and a bit of apprehension, as I'm going to my first football match of the season: Chelsea vs Everton at Stamford Bridge.
Yes, I'm being allowed out on my own for the trip down to Parsons Green, where I will meet my good friends Barney and Richard in the excellent White Horse pub, for a couple of pre-match pints. That is to say that they will have a couple of pre-match pints. I may take a chance on half a shandy.
Although I've been experimenting at home with various alcoholic libations, I'm just not up to it yet. I'm not sure whether this is because my mouth is still raw from the radiotherapy, or that my taste buds have changed, with the result that I just don't like it. What a confession, and how the mighty have fallen!
Anyway, after an afternoon of sitting in the cold watching my team being thoroughly humiliated, expending my energies shouting incoherent abuse at the ref, players and rival supporters, I expect to be pretty exhausted, but I'm looking forward to it.
Of course, the practicalities for a day out when one is fed by tube can get a bit complicated. I can't just get a bag of chips on the way to the match, and I can hardly inject my feed into my stomach in the middle of the pub. Ever resourceful, Catherine has been in touch with the hotel at Stamford Bridge, and arranged for them to have a room for me to feed myself after the game, at no cost. What nice people.
She Who Must Be Obeyed is herself off on her own excursion today, with her girlie friends, for a pampering, drinking and who knows what else overnighter at a hotel in Essex. Lucy is going to something called the Jingle Bell Ball at the O2, so this evening I'll be on my own with Molly the dog. Still, it gives me the opportunity to enjoy Everton's glorious victory on Match of the Day in peace.
On another matter, I sort of returned to work this week. I've commenced the limited working from home as prescribed by the doctor. I've reinstated my access to the office network, to find 2,500 emails waiting for me. As there was an out-of-office message returned to any senders, and most people who worked with me regularly knew about my situation, there was a high proportion of Spam, I've still spent my first couple of days back wading through that lot.
Here are ten songs which could be about football.
1. Can I Kick It? - A Tribe Called Quest
2. God's Footballer - Billy Bragg
3. All I Want For Christmas Is A Dukla Prague Away Kit - Half Man Half Biscuit
4. I Don't Want To Go To Chelsea - Elvis Costello & The Attractions
5. Kickabout - Teenage Fanclub
6. Park Life - Blur
7. You Win Again - Hank Williams
8. Keep On Movin' - Soul II Soul
9. Born To Lose - Ray Charles
10. The Beautiful Game - Acoustic Alchemy
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
And So This Is Trismus
Good Morning
One of the consolations of my ordeal is that it affords the opportunity of widening my vocabulary, as I learn new medical terms. The word for today is Trismus, which means the inability to open the mouth, or - in technical terms - limited mandibular motion.
So, to add to all my other ailments, I am suffering from Trismus. It probably originated with the surgery, and would have been exacerbated by radiotherapy. In order to ease the condition, Speech and Language Therapist Nancy has obtained an instrument of torture called a TheraBite, which is a plastic contraption designed to widen the mouth opening.
The TheraByte resembles a Dymo tapewriter in appearance, but works on a simple principle of stretching the jaw muscles, so that eventually with repeated use the patent's natural jaw opening increases to a satisfactory extent. My mouth currently opens less than 2cm, and the objective is to get a gap of over 3.5cm.
Still, regardless of the Trismus, my recovery continues, and I'm feeling progressively stronger. You will recall that my main worry has been about my long-term ability to eat and drink normally, and so I've decided to up the ante as far as my consumption of food and drink is concerned.
Until very recently, I've been limiting myself to cautious sips of water and not much more, but I was alarmed at my previous meeting with Nancy, when she indicated that I may be limited to soft foods in perpetuity. I wasn't prepared to accept a life of eating nothing but mush, so consulted others.
You may remember that a nice chap called Ben, who went through similar surgery and treatment to myself a couple of years ago, had made contact when I was in hospital, and he has continued to offer moral support since then. He had such difficulty rehabilitating his ability to swallow that he travelled to the States for treatment at the Swallowing Research Laboratory at the University of Florida. He kept a video diary of his time there, and put it on YouTube: I found it quite inspiring. I've also been in touch with Doctor Michael Crary, who attended to Ben, and he has given me some useful advice. I'm hoping that I won't have to travel to Florida to put things right, but if that's what it takes, that's what I'll do.
In the meantime, the advice from Ben and Dr Crary (and, in fairness, my own Speech and Language Therapist, Nancy) is to practice swallowing as much as possible. With regard to eating, I've therefore decided to up the ante, and be less Gillian McKeith and more Linford Christie. In the last few days, I have devoured yogurts, jellies, chocolate mousses, Creme Caramels, and even a banana mashed up in custard. No kangaroo penises yet, but it's early days.
I've also ventured so far as to try a few tastes of alcoholic drinks. All of the wines I've tried have been too acidic for my radiation-impaired palate, but I was able to cope with a small glass of beer. I'm still intending to have that glass of Champagne on Christmas day!
Things generally continue to progress, although not as rapidly as I'd like. I'm feeling much stronger, and my spirits have improved enormously. The doctor has said that I can dip my toe back in the water of work, albeit only from home to begin with. So everything is good!
Here are 10 songs about food.
1. Life Is A Minestrone - 10CC
2. Eggs And Coffee - Tom Waits
3. Jambalaya - Hank Williams
4. Breakfast In Bed - Sheila Hylton
5. Green Onions - Booker T & The MGs
6. Memphis Soul Stew - King Curtis
7. Mummy I Don't Like My Meat - The Goodies
8. Breakfast - Alan Hull
9. Cat Food - King Crimson
10. Meat Is Murder - The Smiths
Mouth wide shut.
RP
One of the consolations of my ordeal is that it affords the opportunity of widening my vocabulary, as I learn new medical terms. The word for today is Trismus, which means the inability to open the mouth, or - in technical terms - limited mandibular motion.
So, to add to all my other ailments, I am suffering from Trismus. It probably originated with the surgery, and would have been exacerbated by radiotherapy. In order to ease the condition, Speech and Language Therapist Nancy has obtained an instrument of torture called a TheraBite, which is a plastic contraption designed to widen the mouth opening.
The TheraByte resembles a Dymo tapewriter in appearance, but works on a simple principle of stretching the jaw muscles, so that eventually with repeated use the patent's natural jaw opening increases to a satisfactory extent. My mouth currently opens less than 2cm, and the objective is to get a gap of over 3.5cm.
Still, regardless of the Trismus, my recovery continues, and I'm feeling progressively stronger. You will recall that my main worry has been about my long-term ability to eat and drink normally, and so I've decided to up the ante as far as my consumption of food and drink is concerned.
Until very recently, I've been limiting myself to cautious sips of water and not much more, but I was alarmed at my previous meeting with Nancy, when she indicated that I may be limited to soft foods in perpetuity. I wasn't prepared to accept a life of eating nothing but mush, so consulted others.
You may remember that a nice chap called Ben, who went through similar surgery and treatment to myself a couple of years ago, had made contact when I was in hospital, and he has continued to offer moral support since then. He had such difficulty rehabilitating his ability to swallow that he travelled to the States for treatment at the Swallowing Research Laboratory at the University of Florida. He kept a video diary of his time there, and put it on YouTube: I found it quite inspiring. I've also been in touch with Doctor Michael Crary, who attended to Ben, and he has given me some useful advice. I'm hoping that I won't have to travel to Florida to put things right, but if that's what it takes, that's what I'll do.
In the meantime, the advice from Ben and Dr Crary (and, in fairness, my own Speech and Language Therapist, Nancy) is to practice swallowing as much as possible. With regard to eating, I've therefore decided to up the ante, and be less Gillian McKeith and more Linford Christie. In the last few days, I have devoured yogurts, jellies, chocolate mousses, Creme Caramels, and even a banana mashed up in custard. No kangaroo penises yet, but it's early days.
I've also ventured so far as to try a few tastes of alcoholic drinks. All of the wines I've tried have been too acidic for my radiation-impaired palate, but I was able to cope with a small glass of beer. I'm still intending to have that glass of Champagne on Christmas day!
Things generally continue to progress, although not as rapidly as I'd like. I'm feeling much stronger, and my spirits have improved enormously. The doctor has said that I can dip my toe back in the water of work, albeit only from home to begin with. So everything is good!
Here are 10 songs about food.
1. Life Is A Minestrone - 10CC
2. Eggs And Coffee - Tom Waits
3. Jambalaya - Hank Williams
4. Breakfast In Bed - Sheila Hylton
5. Green Onions - Booker T & The MGs
6. Memphis Soul Stew - King Curtis
7. Mummy I Don't Like My Meat - The Goodies
8. Breakfast - Alan Hull
9. Cat Food - King Crimson
10. Meat Is Murder - The Smiths
Mouth wide shut.
RP
Monday, 8 November 2010
Getting Better
Greetings, comrades.
As you'll have gathered from the title of this piece, it really does feel like I'm getting better, day by day. That's not to say that everything in the garden is rosy, but I don't feel constantly nauseous, I'm beginning to get some energy back, and even the horrible, horrible saliva secretions aren't quite the problem that they were.
I still have profound deformities in the chest and neck area, which others assure me are less noticeable than they were, but I'm not so sure. For those of you who have made disparaging comments about my torso in the past: believe me, now that my pectoralis major resides in my neck and cheek, it looks positively massive! The area it has vacated looks more puny than ever, although decorated with a highly impressive scar.
My speech impediment is as bad as ever, and speaking more than a few words is a pretty unpleasant experience. For all that the bad stuff going on inside my mouth is not as bad as it was, I can't go anywhere without a box of tissues, and I've got to learn how to swallow all over again.
Still, it's progress of a sort, and my spirit has improved accordingly: you may have gathered that I've gone through some fairly black moods. Ours is now a house of optimism, although we know that there's a lot of work to do before I'm back to normal. This has been reinforced by reassurances from the medical profession. We visited the Ear Nose & Throat clinic yesterday, and they all professed themselves delighted with my progress, particularly as I was so run down last time they saw me. I'm told that my outrageous neck muscle will atrophy in time, and the speech will significantly improve, although I may never completely recover my former dulcet tones.
The biggest challenge, though, is going to be learning to eat and drink again. Although I had been able to sip fluids, and even managed to eat custard and soup before I went through the radiotherapy, I'm afraid that I'm back at square one. Nancy, my favourite Speech & Language Therapist, is patiently taking me through all this, and has promised to have me drinking Champagne by Christmas, even if Christmas lunch itself may need to be liquidised.
From my position, this is the single most important issue in my long term recovery. As you probably know, a big part of my social life revolves around the dinner table, and it's no secret that I like a glass of wine. The thought of being fed by tube for the rest of my life is not something I want to really contemplate. I'm determined to restore my ability to eat and drink, but it will take a long time and a lot of work.
In spite of all this, I'm hoping to start a phased return to work next month, provided that my progress continues. I suspect that I might start getting a bit stir crazy if I don't get back soon, although I am receiving advice from various quarters not to do too much too soon. I think after six months returning to work might be a bit daunting, particularly given current financial challenges in the public sector, but it's got to be done.
In the meantime, it's onwards and upwards, and here are 10 upward & onward songs.
1. Move On Up - Curtis Mayfield
2. Higher & Higher - Jackie Wilson
3. Up Up And Away - The Fifth Dimension
4. Flyin' High (In The Friendly Sky) - Marvin Gaye
5. Higher Than The Sun - Primal Scream
6. Up With People - Lambchop
7. I Want To Take You Higher - Sly & The Family Stone
8. Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Diana Ross
9. Because I Got High - Afro Man
10. No Matter How High I Get - Wilton Felder & Bobby Womack
(Yes, I know I could have included Up Where We Belong and The Only Way Is Up, but I don't like them.)
Learning to smile again!
RP
As you'll have gathered from the title of this piece, it really does feel like I'm getting better, day by day. That's not to say that everything in the garden is rosy, but I don't feel constantly nauseous, I'm beginning to get some energy back, and even the horrible, horrible saliva secretions aren't quite the problem that they were.
I still have profound deformities in the chest and neck area, which others assure me are less noticeable than they were, but I'm not so sure. For those of you who have made disparaging comments about my torso in the past: believe me, now that my pectoralis major resides in my neck and cheek, it looks positively massive! The area it has vacated looks more puny than ever, although decorated with a highly impressive scar.
My speech impediment is as bad as ever, and speaking more than a few words is a pretty unpleasant experience. For all that the bad stuff going on inside my mouth is not as bad as it was, I can't go anywhere without a box of tissues, and I've got to learn how to swallow all over again.
Still, it's progress of a sort, and my spirit has improved accordingly: you may have gathered that I've gone through some fairly black moods. Ours is now a house of optimism, although we know that there's a lot of work to do before I'm back to normal. This has been reinforced by reassurances from the medical profession. We visited the Ear Nose & Throat clinic yesterday, and they all professed themselves delighted with my progress, particularly as I was so run down last time they saw me. I'm told that my outrageous neck muscle will atrophy in time, and the speech will significantly improve, although I may never completely recover my former dulcet tones.
The biggest challenge, though, is going to be learning to eat and drink again. Although I had been able to sip fluids, and even managed to eat custard and soup before I went through the radiotherapy, I'm afraid that I'm back at square one. Nancy, my favourite Speech & Language Therapist, is patiently taking me through all this, and has promised to have me drinking Champagne by Christmas, even if Christmas lunch itself may need to be liquidised.
From my position, this is the single most important issue in my long term recovery. As you probably know, a big part of my social life revolves around the dinner table, and it's no secret that I like a glass of wine. The thought of being fed by tube for the rest of my life is not something I want to really contemplate. I'm determined to restore my ability to eat and drink, but it will take a long time and a lot of work.
In spite of all this, I'm hoping to start a phased return to work next month, provided that my progress continues. I suspect that I might start getting a bit stir crazy if I don't get back soon, although I am receiving advice from various quarters not to do too much too soon. I think after six months returning to work might be a bit daunting, particularly given current financial challenges in the public sector, but it's got to be done.
In the meantime, it's onwards and upwards, and here are 10 upward & onward songs.
1. Move On Up - Curtis Mayfield
2. Higher & Higher - Jackie Wilson
3. Up Up And Away - The Fifth Dimension
4. Flyin' High (In The Friendly Sky) - Marvin Gaye
5. Higher Than The Sun - Primal Scream
6. Up With People - Lambchop
7. I Want To Take You Higher - Sly & The Family Stone
8. Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Diana Ross
9. Because I Got High - Afro Man
10. No Matter How High I Get - Wilton Felder & Bobby Womack
(Yes, I know I could have included Up Where We Belong and The Only Way Is Up, but I don't like them.)
Learning to smile again!
RP
Friday, 29 October 2010
Hello Friends - it's me again, following an extended stay away from your computer screens. Once again, I've received various emails questioning my absence and encouraging me to post a progress report.
There are a couple of reasons why I haven't reported anything for several weeks: the first is that in my zombie-like state, I simply haven't had the energy; and the second is that I've had so little to report. A daily update along the lines of "feeling lousy; even worse than yesterday" is enough to have you all running for the hills, and seeking a less depressing web site.
Well, as evidenced by the very fact that I'm sitting here composing a blog, I think I must be gradually getting better. Forgive me if I seem a little uncertain, but there are bad days and, well, worse days.
The last 2-3 weeks of treatment were the worst I can ever remember feeling, and there was no improvement in the first week post-treatment. Then about a week ago, I started feeling a little bit brighter, so we assumed that it would be a simple matter of steady progress, but no such luck, I'm afraid. If I have got any better over the last seven days, the recovery has been so limited as to be unnoticeable. They say that it can be three weeks after the end of treatment before you start feeling better, so surely things must start looking up soon.
It's very difficult to describe the symptoms of the treatment: maybe just a general malaise, but the worst you've ever experienced. It's one of those feelings that you can only understand if you've lived through it. My good friend Alex, who has experienced it, describes it as "the horrors", which is just about spot on.
As ever, Catherine has been fantastic: patient and caring, I don't know what I would do without her. She's been gently bullying me to do my swallowing exercises, and has resisted the temptation to shout at me when I've childishly refused. She keeps a resolutely cheerful view on things, which is just as well, as more thsn one person in the house with my black mood would make things even more unbearable.
Sorry to be downbeat again. I hope to be back soon, with a more positive message.
Keep smiling.
Rx
There are a couple of reasons why I haven't reported anything for several weeks: the first is that in my zombie-like state, I simply haven't had the energy; and the second is that I've had so little to report. A daily update along the lines of "feeling lousy; even worse than yesterday" is enough to have you all running for the hills, and seeking a less depressing web site.
Well, as evidenced by the very fact that I'm sitting here composing a blog, I think I must be gradually getting better. Forgive me if I seem a little uncertain, but there are bad days and, well, worse days.
The last 2-3 weeks of treatment were the worst I can ever remember feeling, and there was no improvement in the first week post-treatment. Then about a week ago, I started feeling a little bit brighter, so we assumed that it would be a simple matter of steady progress, but no such luck, I'm afraid. If I have got any better over the last seven days, the recovery has been so limited as to be unnoticeable. They say that it can be three weeks after the end of treatment before you start feeling better, so surely things must start looking up soon.
It's very difficult to describe the symptoms of the treatment: maybe just a general malaise, but the worst you've ever experienced. It's one of those feelings that you can only understand if you've lived through it. My good friend Alex, who has experienced it, describes it as "the horrors", which is just about spot on.
As ever, Catherine has been fantastic: patient and caring, I don't know what I would do without her. She's been gently bullying me to do my swallowing exercises, and has resisted the temptation to shout at me when I've childishly refused. She keeps a resolutely cheerful view on things, which is just as well, as more thsn one person in the house with my black mood would make things even more unbearable.
Sorry to be downbeat again. I hope to be back soon, with a more positive message.
Keep smiling.
Rx
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
Still here
Just a quick one - Rick had his last chemotherapy session last Wednesday (13th Oct) and the last radiotherapy on Friday (15th Oct). Although we haven't got the daily trek to St Bart's, Rick is feeling pretty rough - anti-sickness drugs are not quite as successful as last time and the whole mucus/gloopy saliva situation isn't helping matters. All this is to be expected, the doctors did say he will be feeling probably the worst he has felt so far for the next 2-3 weeks (they are not wrong there) and then things should gradually start to pick up.
So bear with us, hopefully it won't be too long before you get a much more entertaining blog!
Catherine x
So bear with us, hopefully it won't be too long before you get a much more entertaining blog!
Catherine x
Sunday, 3 October 2010
From The Bottom Of My Heart
Hi All
Just a short post this time, to let you know that I'm still here, and muddling through.
My previous blog was pretty downhearted, as I was going through some pretty tough times with the treatment. Well, it continues to be a struggle, and I'm not saying that the last week has been easy, but I've got through it, and I've only got two weeks more radiotherapy and one session of chemo left. I knew it was going to be hard, but I'm going to get through this.
The main reason I wanted to update the blog, though, was to say thanks. Whenever I've confessed to feeling down, you - my friends - have gathered round and offered heartfelt words of support, and these have kept me going. The last blog provoked a number of responses, either directly as comments on the blog site, or through texts and emails sent separately. Some made me weep - I'm a bit of a crybaby at the moment - others made me laugh, but they all gave me strength. So thanks.
Here are 10 songs of thanks.
1. Thank You For Being A Friend - Andrew Gold
2. I'll Always Be Grateful - A House
3. I Thank You - Sam & Dave
4. I'm So Thankful - The Ikettes
5. Thank You Baby For Loving Me - Soul Brothers Six
6. Thank You For Letting Me Be Myself Again - Maceo & The King's Men
7. Be Thankful For What You've Got - William DeVaughan
8. Thank You Girl - John Hiatt
9. Thank You For The Dream - Lamont Dozier
10. Thanks For The Joy - Ruthie Foster
RP
Just a short post this time, to let you know that I'm still here, and muddling through.
My previous blog was pretty downhearted, as I was going through some pretty tough times with the treatment. Well, it continues to be a struggle, and I'm not saying that the last week has been easy, but I've got through it, and I've only got two weeks more radiotherapy and one session of chemo left. I knew it was going to be hard, but I'm going to get through this.
The main reason I wanted to update the blog, though, was to say thanks. Whenever I've confessed to feeling down, you - my friends - have gathered round and offered heartfelt words of support, and these have kept me going. The last blog provoked a number of responses, either directly as comments on the blog site, or through texts and emails sent separately. Some made me weep - I'm a bit of a crybaby at the moment - others made me laugh, but they all gave me strength. So thanks.
Here are 10 songs of thanks.
1. Thank You For Being A Friend - Andrew Gold
2. I'll Always Be Grateful - A House
3. I Thank You - Sam & Dave
4. I'm So Thankful - The Ikettes
5. Thank You Baby For Loving Me - Soul Brothers Six
6. Thank You For Letting Me Be Myself Again - Maceo & The King's Men
7. Be Thankful For What You've Got - William DeVaughan
8. Thank You Girl - John Hiatt
9. Thank You For The Dream - Lamont Dozier
10. Thanks For The Joy - Ruthie Foster
RP
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