New, and Not So New, Reasons to Hate Modern Medicine and Cancer

My current care does not have me in an upbeat mood, and I've started to make a list of the reasons why:

1. I hate being the last to know. I have to call my pharmacy four days in advance of my appointments in order to have my pills in hand when I'm supposed to start taking them. But when my doctor changes my dosage and tells the pharmacy, I get confused and frustrated because the pharmacy won't send me the quantity of the pills I think I need. And if there's been a mistake, my insurance won't pay for a correction. My doctor changed my dosage this week, and it annoys me that I didn't get a call or email letting me know that fact. I think I ought to be told before my pharmacist is. 

2. I freakin' hate chemotherapy infusions. Yeah, they're easier on me than on a lot of people, but I still bloody hate them. Chemotherapy isn't medicine, it's chemical warfare on a microscopic scale. There's a reason the UN prohibits chemical warfare. 

3. I hate chemotherapy infusions so much that I have psychosomatic responses to the idea of them. I started feeling lousy at about 11:00 am this morning, and it just kept getting worse. Eventually, I realized I was having an anticipatory reaction to tomorrow's infusions. Having the infusion is bad enough, do I really need to have an extra day of misery because my brain can't wait to get started? 

4. I'm not a fan of ignorance. It annoys me that I haven't gotten the results of my PET scan yet. 

5. Today I learned of a new wrinkle to the tale of oxaliplatin-caused neuropathy: turns out oxaliplatin not only causes neuropathy, but it causes permanent neuropathy -- i.e., permanent nerve damage. So even if I qualify for surgery, have the cancer cut out of me, and go off chemotherapy permanently, there's a good chance the feeling will never come back to my toes. 

6. I miss feeling my toes.

7. I have never been a body guy. I'm a brain guy. It's annoying the crap out of me to have to so continually focus so much of my energy on my body. I would very (very) much like to go back to ignoring it. 

8. I've mentioned before the annoying fact that I don't remember life before diabetes, and the fact that anything body-related now has to go through both the diabetes filter and the cancer filter. Now it's worse: I've reached the point where I don't really remember life before cancer. I don't recall a time when I wasn't tired, or when I could feel my toes. 

9. I like certainty. The lack of certainty in cancer treatment is starting to annoy me. Just once, I'd like to hear a definitive outcome rather than a range of possible eventualities. 

I'm sure there's more, but I'm trying to limit my complaints to single digit numbers.