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.

On February 5, the President cut about $11 billion from the National Cancer Institute budget. On March 20, one group -- the Colorectal Cancer Coalition or C3 -- will ask Congress to return some of this money.

Colorectal cancer advocates from all over the country will descend upon Washington DC on this day, in honor of National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month. Their plan of action on behalf of C3's first-ever Call-On Congress includes meeting with members of Congress face to face, discussing cancer research and prevention funding, and informing these powerful people that the time to cure cancer is now.

These advocates have a lot to accomplish -- and they need your help. So they ask that while they are rallying in DC that you lend your support with a few simple phone calls.

On Tuesday, March 20, between the hours of 9:00 AM and 5:00 PM Eastern Standard Time, pick up your phone and call two Senators and one Representative. Tell them now is the time for all good men and women to come to the aid of the cancer cause.

C3 offers a step-by-step guide for making yourself heard. The group will help you locate your specific legislators and provides a script for what to say and how to say it.

"The more people who call on March 20th and ask for Congress to make funding the war on cancer a priority, the better for us all," says one advocate.

United States Representative Charles Norwood, who left Washington last week to enter into the care of hospice, died yesterday at his home after battling cancer and lung disease. He was 65.

Norwood, whose passing prompted the House to observe a moment of silence Tuesday in his honor, suffered since 1998 from chronic lung disease and later metastatic cancer that spread from his lungs to his liver. Last week, he announced he would no longer accept treatment, that he would allow hospice to care for him for the remainder of his days.

A dentist from Augusta, Georgia, Norwood was the first Republican to represent northeastern Georgia since the Civil War. A conservative passionately opposed to government bureaucracy and adamantly supportive of patients' rights, he hoped to one day become Georgia's first Republican Governor.

Norwood's medical decline began when his lung condition -- idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis -- began restricting his ability to breathe and necessitated a lung transplant in 2004.

Known for zipping around the Capitol with a motorized cart and oxygen tank, Norwood developed cancer on his non-transplanted lung reportedly due to the immune suppression drugs he took after his transplant. And although his cancer was surgically removed and his health did improve, doctors learned this past November his cancer had spread.

The vacancy left by Norwood's death will not be filled immediately due to governmental process. In Georgia, within 10 days of the seat being vacated, the governor must request a special election to the secretary of state. And the election must be held no fewer than 30 days later.

Norwood is survived by his wife, Gloria; two sons, Charles and Carlton; and four grandchildren.

United States Representative Charlie Norwood will soon depart Washington, for good. He will head straight home to Georgia where he will receive hospice care now that he has decided to decline all further treatment for lung cancer that has spread to his liver.

An air ambulance will fly Norwood, 65, home as early as Wednesday or Thursday. The congressman, who had been traveling the halls of Congress in an eclectic cart, with oxygen tank in tow has spent much of his time this session in the hospital.

Suffering from chronic lung disease and idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, Norwood received a lung transplant in 2004. Doctors then discovered a tumor on his non-transplanted lung and removed it in 2006. But the cancer had already spread to his liver. And while Norwood considered continued treatment, he ultimately determined, "No, you know what, it's time to go home."

Norwood, whose condition was acknowledged by President Bush in his last State of the Union speech, is said to have been as stubborn in his fight against cancer as he was in this fight for the legislation he thought was important for America.

Less than one year ago, Rep. John P. "Jack" Murtha, D-Pa., came crashing onto the national scene with his opinion that the U.S. military could accomplish nothing more in Iraq and should be pulled out of the war zone. It was a harsh opinion -- and one his Democratic partners thought might hurt their party at a time when they were trying to gain control of Congress. The fact that the Democrats had been seen as weak on national security didn't help. And then a funny thing happened.

Murtha, 74 -- a decorated Marine and the first combat veteran of the Vietnam War elected to the House of Representatives -- became one of the most popular Democrats around, despite or maybe because of his passionate beliefs. Once a behind-the-scenes kind of man, he is now in the public eye. He's out raising money for Democrats in many states. He's attending fundraising events with Al Gore and others. And he's gathering allies at every turn. And while he still faces opposition, he believes that he must make public what he stands for. And so he does. And because of his recent uncharacteristic charismatic presence, details about this once-to-himself man are emerging. Details like these: A local airport is named for him. An institute for the study of neuroscience and pain is named for him. And a breast cancer center bears the name of his wife, Joyce.

The Joyce Murtha Breast Care Center at Windber Medical Center opened its doors in February 2002. Located in Windber, Pennsylvania, this center began as a collaboration between Walter Reed Army Medical Center and Windber Medical Center and ever since its beginning has offered full diagnostic services for breast health and disease in one convenient location.

Murtha is surely raising awareness with his opinion about the military and national security and war. And even breast cancer gets a little press out of the whole frenzy surrounding this man and his efforts. Which reminds me that somehow, breast cancer seems to touch the lives of just about everyone is some way.