Is It Just Me, Or Do I Really Look Sick?

Hello. My name is Steve C. and I, well, uh, I'm a hypochondriac. There! I've admitted it. Gee, I feel better already. It's a secret I've lived with for years, but just recently it's been made painfully obvious to me that the world is crawling with us hypochondriacs. So, as a public service, I've decided to come out in the open...to come out of the medicine cabinet, if you will. I feel that by calling attention to my shameful problem, I can, somehow, in my own small, humble way, help others come to grips with their own hypochondria.
As I said, I've come to realize there are many sufferers. Take Bill W. (not the AA Bill W.). He took his wife to the hospital for a procedure. As the doctor was describing just what he'd be doing to Bill W.'s wife, Bill W. became queasy. His blood pressure rocketed to over 200. The doctors couldn't do the procedure on Mrs. Bill W. because they were too worried about him. In comparison to Bill W., I'm a rank amateur hypochondriac.
Although I can relate. If someone tells me about an injury they suffered, I double over in pain. No matter what part of their body was injured, I feel the pain in my mid-section. So, please, if you've had any terrible injury, I'd just as soon not know about it.
Then there's Julie C. (wife of Steve C.). She tells me last night that she can't seem to stay awake the last couple of days. She blames it on conversion-to-Eastern-Time jet lag. She hasn't been anywhere, but she has jet lag because of the clock being set back. The poor thing doesn't even realize what a hypochondriac she is.
Although I'm willing to limp up to the plate and admit I'm a hypochondriac, that doesn't mean that I fully believe that there isn't something seriously wrong with me. I saw a cartoon recently. A man was sitting in his doctor's office. He was saying to the doctor: "Okay, suppose I am a hypochondriac, that could be brought on by a brain tumor, couldn't it?"
I know just what the guy means. Although there may be some seriously neurotic people out there (Bill W. and Julie C., as examples), I'm sure I really have some exotic tropical illness that doctor's just can't seem to locate. Take my back for instance...please (an old Henny Youngman joke, but a good one). Sure, every orthopedic specialist in the city has examined it and said they can't find any problem. But I know how badly I hurt. In fact, now that I'm taking the time to really think about it, I'm probably not a hypochondriac at all. Just the opposite, I probably have an extremely high threshold of pain. If most people experienced the pain I'm experiencing, they'd probably be in the hospital, or worse. But not me. No sir. I'm a trooper. I keep on going.
And, it's not just my back. Did I mention I have combination skin. I've suffered with that for decades. But do you hear me complaining? I'll answer that...NO. Plus, I have flat feet and a horseshoe kidney. Furthermore, I have some sort of illness that everytime someone even mentions the word "flatulence" (or a more unsavory synonym), I have a coughing fit.
And you don't think I'm really sick? I'm a wreck. But, I keep a stiff upper lip and keep on going. Not like those hypochondriacs. I really think they have problems upstairs, if you know what I'm trying to say.
Well, I hope this little tirade has made you feel better. I feel better, although, I still have this pain in my lower back. I'm in excruciating pain every time I do this....