The National Inquirer was the first to break the news about Farrah's diagnosis of anal cancer before the star confirmed it.

The same paper is now saying that Farrah's cancer has returned. According to the article, doctors have found a small, malignant polyp. The actress was previously treated with radiation and chemotherapy. The new plan would be to place a small metallic seed in the area that would kill the cancerous polyp.

Can't believe everything you read -- especially from this source. Even if it is true that her cancer has recurred, I think most of what is said in the article is probably wrong.

These days, politics and cancer seem to go hand in hand. In February, United States Representative Charles Norwood, from Augusta, Georgia, died of lung cancer. In March, Virginia Congresswoman Jo Ann Davis revealed the breast cancer she fought in 2005 had recurred. A few days ago Elizabeth Edwards, wife of presidential candidate John Edwards, shared that her own breast cancer, originally diagnosed in 2004, has relocated to her bones.

United States Press secretary Tony Snow is a colon cancer survivor. Presidential candidate Rudy Giuliani is a prostate cancer survivor. Candidate John McCain has had three bouts with melanoma, the most aggressive form of skin cancer. Bob Dole, now 83, was a cancer survivor at age 73 when he ran for the White House as the 1996 Republican presidential nominee against President Clinton. And the 2004 Democratic nominee, John Kerry, had prostate cancer surgery in 2003.

If I did more research, I bet I'd turn up a whole slew of other politicians who have received a direct hit from cancer. But that's not necessary. I think what I'm trying to demonstrate is already clear.

Take any sector of society and cancer will somehow be woven into the lives of those who define the population. Athletes and cancer. Celebrities and cancer. Musicians and cancer. Kids and cancer. Young moms and cancer. Men and cancer. Politicians and cancer.

This brings me to my next point -- cancer is widespread, so widespread it surfaces over and over again within any given group of people. This makes me sad. But this infiltration of the disease also means none of us is alone. And as a woman with cancer; a young mom with cancer; a wife, a daughter, a sister with cancer; and a writer with cancer, this makes me feel comforted, supported, and utterly strong.

Ever since revealing her breast cancer had recurred, there has been speculation about a spread from Elizabeth Edwards' rib -- the initial metastasis -- to other spots in her body.

Last night, on the CBS news program 60 Minutes, Edwards told Katie Couric that a hot spot has been detected in her right hip. But doctors believe it is too small to pose a new health risk, she reports.

"There are a couple of hot spots, on the bone scan, in my right hip, for example," she said. "And one of the questions is whether or not to do radiation to reduce the size of that -- of the cancer in that location -- and for fear that it might weaken my bone and that I might break my hip. But their consensus was that it was too small an area for that to be a risk."

In addition to discussion about the cancer itself, Edwards and her husband John defended their decision to stick with the presidential race. Edwards said she just cannot deny her husband the chance to be president.

"That would be my legacy, wouldn't it, Katie?" Edwards said to Couric. "That I'd taken out this fine man from -- from the possibility of -- of giving a great service. I mean, I don't want that to be my legacy."

I can't decide what to do about my port now that my breast cancer treatment is over. It's been an on-going internal battle. I don't know whether I should leave it in place -- tunneled underneath the skin on my collarbone where it is available and accessible should I ever need further infusions of cancer-fighting drugs -- or whether I should have it removed since there is no real purpose for it right now. There is the issue of superstition and safety -- leaving it right where it is allows for easy use if cancer returns and prevents another surgery to implant a new one. But there is also the issue of moving on -- and removing it because I don't need it, because I may never need it. One doctor told me recently that it should come out because if it remains in my body, I risk infection. And anything foreign in my body for an extended period of time is not completely safe. But a cancer survivor told me that she had hers removed immediately after treatment and had to get a new one because her cancer recurred three months later.

I am accustomed to wrestling matches like this one -- like my stand-off between treatment with Taxol or without Taxol, between anti-depressant or no anti-depressant, between vegan diets and traditional diets. Sometimes I can make a good call. Sometimes I just can't decide. Like right now.

Dori died this past November after a long battle with breast cancer that recurred and spread and ultimately took her from her husband and two young children. I never knew Dori -- she was one of my blog acquaintances -- but I gather from her words and the hundreds of comments that were left on her site that she was full of spirit and courage and grace.

Dori died gracefully at her home, with the assistance of hospice and a loving network of family and friends. She is no longer able to write in her blog -- No Bra Required -- and I miss her abundant strength and humor in the midst of a exhausting journey. But something happened that I think has eased the transition for those who are struggling with the death of a woman much too young to have left this world -- Dori's husband continued to write. He continued Dori's blog for a bit and then started his own personal blog where he shares the peaks and valleys of a life without Dori and with two kids he is raising on his own. Winter to Spring is insightful and touching and sad and happy. It chronicles birthday parties and school plays and Mother's Day too. It reveals feelings and hopes and wishes and sorrows. The tragedy of it all -- the death of Dori -- is devastating. The upside of the tragedy -- the resilience of a family, the lessons learned, the hope for a brighter tomorrow -- keeps me coming back for more. For more of a story that can break my heart and warm my heart all at the same time.