the worst news

When I was newer to the experience of having cancer, I wrote here that the only news worse than cancer was More Cancer. Because at that point we were dealing with finding out whether or not I had More Cancer and it seemed that my capacity to deal with the disease would dissolve if it reached a certain measurement or existed over a certain area. But then there was More Cancer and we removed it and it was awful, but it was ok, because it was better to know about it than to leave it untreated. Ironically, there was some comfort in finding More Cancer because it felt like we had found All of the Cancer, and that was good and safe.
It started to seem like the worst news wasn't More Cancer, but that everything After Cancer changes and that life becomes permeated with a brittleness I struggle to explain. Other things--like giant medical bills and the disaster with my mother and not being able to have kids and how I was woefully underprepared for the paralyzing fear and deep sadness that have filled up the spaces in my brain that were once so efficiently managing doctors and treatment--came along to occupy my thoughts. I've continued to fear More Cancer, but I always place it in the future, somewhere after that frightening data drop-off that can tell me nothing about the efficacy of my treatments after ten years. For ten years I am safe, and come 2023 I will have reached the frightening precipice of cancerous possibility. In the meantime, these other things, with their immediacy, seemed scarier because they are problems I do not know how to solve. We have means of removing More Cancer, and I can manage them with a modicum of professionalism. 
And then two moles started to change in all the ways that set alarm bells ringing. One of them, once round, smooth, and a dark chocolate brown began to leak color into the pale surrounding skin, like a sponge dampening a towel on which it has been set. The smooth, small protrusion of it became bumpy and black. The other turned from a petite dark brown spot to a red-brown speck with a blurry tan border. I'd been trying not to be alarmed, to just pay attention to the changes so that I could talk to my primary care doctor about them at my upcoming appointment.
And then the larger, darker one fell off. I was looking at it after a shower to monitor changes when I touched it lightly to see if it still felt bumpy and at barely being grazed, it fell off. This is not a good sign. It also possibly a sign of nothing, but all of these things are also signs of Something.
I go to see the primary care doctor tomorrow. I don't know if he's planning on doing an excision so we can get these things biopsied (which is my hope), or if he's just going to look at them and set up another appointment for excision. But I'm getting more biopsies either way. Because we're looking for More Cancer.
I was right the first time, about the worst news.

***Update: It seems that all my worry was likely (thankfully!) for naught. I had both moles removed today and my doctor says that he is 99.9% sure they are nothing. You may have noticed that I was freaking out a little bit about that.