I have been called a hypochondriac in my life before (hi, Mom!), although my doctor says it's not that I imagine I have these things; it's just that I'm hyper-aware and so every little twinge is call for alarm.
Except when it's not.
And I seem to wear that Stupid Hat when I stop listening and being hyper-aware of said body.
Which is why - when I ran out of my normal medications for hypothyroid (and the antidepressant I have to treat ADD / double up on in the winter) - I just kind of blew it off. And my usual management technique for keeping my head on straight (making lists of things I need to do) got, well, forgotten because I didn't have that other medication, the one for ADD.
Hence the Stupid Hat.
Where I stuck that hat very firmly on my head was that I know that hypothyroid, untreated, leads to fatigue and weight gain and irritability, but I ignored said symptoms and just wrote them off.
Until I found myself shouting at Lizzy for having the temerity to need help putting on her tights.
So I went into the doctor, which is more complicated than it sounds due to temporary insurance and many other factors, and had a basic checkup.
Given my weight (considerable) I'm pretty healthy. Aside from my thyroid being all out of whack of course, because I haven't been taking those meds for a few weeks.
My iron is a little low - not unusual, as the Puget Sound Blood Center knows to its chagrin - and my bad cholesterol, while not over-the-limits high, is high enough that they would rather I not get my iron through, say, red meat.
I'm pretty lucky for someone wearing the Stupid Hat.