The ability to talk rubbish non-stop for an indeterminate amount of time is obviously an important quality in any would-be QVC host, but in addition to the gift of the gab, you also need to look good when presenting mundane items to the public. So having proved her verbal skills with a storytelling screen test on Monday, I decided to check Amelie's visual appeal in front of the camera yesterday.

Here she is with an ever ready smile, displaying the long lasting qualities of a battery...

To be fair though, it's no challenge flogging an item that everybody needs. If you really want to test yourself, you need to try the hard-sell of a stray cat with a bald patch in a Moses basket...

Clearly the elegant pointing has descended into a bit of brutal face-shoving, but other than that, I think she's doing pretty well. I'll have to add those shots to her show reel.

As it happens, Amelie's ability to support me in my old age with a highly paid TV career is now more pertinent than ever, because it seems I've got longer to live than I thought. I went back to the doctor yesterday for a barrage of tests designed to find out if I'm as ill as I look. When I was there two weeks ago, I mentioned that my life contains a lot of heartache, so she booked me in for an ECG.

It was an interesting experience, not unlike being Frankenstein's monster for a morning. I had to lie on a couch while a nurse trimmed my chest hair with surgical scissors and attached electrodes all over my body. I kept expecting her to throw a wall-switch and shout "It lives!!!" in a crazed tone of voice. As it was, she just confirmed my address and asked me about retinal screening.

By the end of it, she had a three-foot-long printout which resembled the movements of the FTSE 100, and she said the doctor would phone me with the results. That phone call duly came at 4:40pm, and it seems my ECG was normal. She did say that my pulse was a bit on the low side, but apparently that could just be a sign of extreme physical fitness and a permanently laid back attitude. Which is me to a tee.

So I'm not as broken-hearted as I thought. I do, however, still have to wait for the results of a blood test, which they carried out before the ECG. I had to fast for twelve hours beforehand, so it was a miracle I was still alive at that point, but by Friday afternoon I should know exactly where I stand. And if I'll need a walking stick to do it.