Numbing down to a niggle

Things that have niggled me this week to the extent that they are still bothering me on a Saturday evening. When nothing else is bothering me. Children are asleep, at Dads and with mates.
Firstly my family's total lack of concern, sympathy, understanding, belief (?) over my sudden hair loss. Ok, I know, it's hardly life threatening, painful, life changing even, but it's upsetting and worrying. Not because I think it is a symptom of any underlying condition . . . simply because I don't want to lose my hair, or even half of it. Well half has gone. That is fact. I know how it was. I know how it is. I need say no more. The Dr has booked me in for a thyroid function test and a hormone level test. The helpful comments from my family so far have been  . . .
"Are you sure?" . . .  "AM  I  SURE?" . . . Erm . . let me think . .  just in case I'm mistaken . . . No. I'm pretty sure. As sure as one can be. Yes I'm sure.
"It's still long!" . . . Awesome! Ten strands down to me arse will do fine thankyou.
"You can't tell" . . . I can tell. And if it continues, soon you will be able to tell. I can't tell that Mr K has prostate cancer but that don't make it ok.
"Well you don't literally mean half " . . . ??? No I mean about an eighth!? WTF?!?
Ok. Enough examples on that one. Its exasperating just thinking about it. What it is with them? Or is it me? Sometimes I seriously wonder.
Ok. There are a few more petty things such as, my Mother being purposefully unresponsive to my dentist news and disgusted by the mention of false teeth ( I'm 78 and I've still got my own teeth. Yes Mother only because I hold my temper, or they would be down your . . . (joke) )  after having made me feel bad so often about the state of my teeth  . . . I made it clear I was upset. Knowing she had gone too far, In a rare fit of generosity to try and fix it all, she told me she had found (found being the operative word) Two super king-size quilt covers that I could have. One was a brand new, never used, never likely to be used, dark red Monsoon quilt cover that she had no doubt bought on a whim. She said I would love it. I thought I would too. The other one was a bit old, faded plain cotton but would do for my bottom quilt (as I use one underneath and one on top). Lovely I said. Yes please. Thanks. A couple of days later, feeling safe that our relationship based on her saying exactly how she feels and me biting my tongue was, if not quite back on track, at least on its way, she arrives with the old faded one. Being able to read her with my eyes shut I said. "O aren't I getting the Monsoon one now? . . . "I can't find it" she said. No you can't look at me and say that either.
There is more but I know all of these things individually are so petty they are not worth bothering about. It just speaks volumes to me about the way my family feel about me. I know when I stop the gear there are matters I will have to deal with. It will not be so easy to constantly sweep crap under the carpet. Without a painkiller/number I will feel the pain, anger, resentment, lack of love of a lot more and I will have to say something. This is what I've been dreading and avoiding for 35 years.
Shit. This post started out as a light hearted list of stuff that had pissed me off a bit this week. I soon realised most of it was from the same source.
Apart from Ant and Dec!!  hosting "I was almost a celebrity a long time ago and would like another chance . . . Get me out of here." How did that pair of buffoons become so popular?