Self Control - Quite Literally

I've been reading a collection of essays by biological researcher and physician Lewis Thomas, essays which have been making me wonder - why don't we have closer communication with (or at least awareness of) the cells we are comprised of?

It occurred to me, while learning of the precise anatomical structure of lungs, bones, and nerves, to ask, why didn't I know all of this already? Why should people have to research the inner workings of their bodies? It may be that it is a problem of separation. The brain doesn't know how the circulatory system works because it doesn't identify with it. Neurons don't automatically comprehend the functions then, of myocardial cells in the heart because they are strangers to them. But this is a poor excuse, for if it were the case, neurons would at least know how other neurons work. This is obviously untrue, as it is impossible to find a person who innately knows how their nervous system operates.

It seems unfair that I should be so cut off from my cells. Perhaps, however, it would not be such a great idea to be closely involved with them either, as Thomas points out in his essay Autonomy. "If I were informed tomorrow that I was in direct communication with my liver, and could now take over, I would become deeply depressed. ... Nothing would save me and my liver, if I were in charge" Thomas writes. I have to admit, he has a point. Knowledge of (and authority over) each and every one of our cells would effectively bury us.

So, I acknowledge that the running of my systems is beyond me. Wouldn't it be nice, though, to have a bit more intercommunication? Hello white blood cells, how are you today? It's curious to think that even the means to contact my own cells is also beyond me. When I say me though, I am referring to... hang on.
My cells converse with each other every second, so what part of me is being excluded exactly? Is it only my thoughts that are disconnected from my cells?

This is confusing. To be continued...