I sounded like an old crone who smokes 50 fags a day

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It’s a difficult time for me at the moment. You see, my voice has gone – almost completely.

I feel like Wonder Woman without her cape, Thor without his muscles. I am Gobby Gibbs without the gob – I hate it, but everyone else loves it.

I’ve spent the majority of the past week doing things which require my voice. I’ve just done the voiceover for a new biographical DVD on Amy Winehouse which will have an international distribution.

I then spent an afternoon interviewing some up-and-coming designers at London Fashion Week, which was fab.

There was a slight dent to my ego, though, when I stood next to models with giraffe-like figures, all long pins and high cheek bones.

I’m 5ft 4in – just – with rather small legs, and I’m not sure that I even have cheekbones.

Anyway, as if my voice hadn’t been put to good enough use, I was a guest on the Sasha Twinning Show on BBC Radio Solent on Saturday morning.

I was on to review the newspapers and generally give my opinion about the recent Emmys (loved Kate Winslet’s enthusiasm, but the tears and dramatics brought back her 2009 Oscar-winning speech which still makes me shudder with embarrassment).

Then I was on air again, reading the news and sport every day for Spirit FM based in Chichester.

By Tuesday my voice had well and truly packed up, so my hourly bulletins sounded like they were being broadcast by an old crone who smokes 50 cigarettes a day.

Quite honestly I feel rather sorry for myself. My body rewards all my hard work by giving me a stinking virus and by taking away my most powerful superpower – my ability to talk and talk and talk and talk.

But at least I still get to air my concerns and frustrations with you, my dear readers.

After all, what kind of superhero would I be if I gave up at the first hurdle and didn’t find other means to communicate my wisdom?

I have a feeling the antibiotics I’m taking are going to my head – I need a rest.