My mammogram and ultrasound today revealed nothing but normal, healthy tissue. The doctor said my pictures looked beautiful -- and she could find not one thing to worry about. She really looked for something -- because I was convinced there was something wrong when I found a lump-like bump in my left breast two weeks ago. So convinced that I was riddled with anxiety and panic and fear. But now I am happy and content once again -- and relieved that my fears were unfounded.

The explanation my doctor offered for the lumpiness I detected goes like this: my breast has been swollen and plump ever since my lumpectomy and radiation over the course of almost two years. Slowly, the swelling is disappearing and so all the tissue hidden under the plumpness is coming to the surface. It's always been there -- she could see it when she looked at my previous mammograms -- but I haven't noticed. Now, it's become more apparent as my breast returns to its normal size and shape. And so it seemed new to me. And suspicious. And wrong. But it's okay. It's normal. It's nothing to worry about.

And so I am not worried. I am settled and calm and thrilled to be surviving breast cancer, without fear that the disease is coming back. At least for today.

Celebrities have a way of motivating the public to take action. They help dictate fashion trends and set standards for mostly unattainable body shapes and sizes. They add hype to political views and philosophies and make influential statements about all sorts of issues. Like breast cancer. With its backing from celebrities like Melissa Etheridge and Sheryl Crow and Kylie Minogue -- all breast cancer survivors who are speaking out and raising awareness -- breast cancer has burst onto the media scene and is receiving powerful, positive attention. Kylie Minogue's public diagnosis spurred so many women into getting their breasts checked that the Medical Journal of Australia reports a 40 percent increase in bookings for mammograms. But sometimes, celebrity diagnoses don't elicit a response at all.

Italian tenor Luciano Pavarotti was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last month -- yet the announcement barely registered on the public's radar. Perhaps he does not command the same kind of reaction as pop singers do. Or perhaps it's the type of cancer that keeps his public battle on the sidelines.

The breasts are a visible icon of femininity -- out in the forefront for all to see. And so the issue of breast cancer is in the forefront. The pancreas, on the other hand, are hidden behind the stomach and are out of sight -- and out of mind. When Apple chief executive Steve Jobs was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2004, he didn't even know where to find his pancreas. And so this organ does not attract much fanfare -- and therefore does not attract the funding and research that breast cancer does. Which is sad because this cancer is not just hidden inside the body. It's also a hidden killer. It can't be felt like breasts can be felt. And there is no easy way to detect it, like with mammogram and other imaging techniques. Often a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer -- the fourth leading cause of cancer death in Western societies -- comes with a death sentence. And more and more, breast cancer diagnoses come with promising expectations of survival.

We may not know as much as about pancreatic cancer as we do breast cancer. But there are some behaviors that may contribute to this deadly disease. So in the spirit of prevention, consider this:

• If nobody smoked, 25 percent of pancreatic cancer cases wouldn't happen.
• Alcohol consumption can increase the risk by 15 times.
• Some studies link high meat consumption and low vegetable consumption to incidences of pancreatic cancer.
• Folate, the B vitamin in green leafy vegetables, oranges, legumes, and whole grains seem to reduce the risk. But folate supplements don't seem to have the same healthy effect.

Five years ago, when Michael Dunn's seven-year-old son Steven woke one morning with a swollen left eye, he took him to the emergency room thinking they would come home with eye drops for Steven. Instead, Steven became the 33rd known case of rhabdomyosarcoma, a cancer striking soft body tissue, that had no long-term survivors over the age of 20.

Enter artist Connie Douglas. While doing some work in the Dunn home, she was in awe of Steven's spirit as he battled cancer that would most likely steal his life before he reached adulthood. Inspired by Steven, she contacted Phoenix Children's Hospital, with a proposal to create and donate artwork for the children who visited or stayed at the hospital.

The art project turned into nine wall story panels, and within each painted panel are hidden Shnnoogles. A Shnnoogle, which stands for caring and sharing, hugging and snuggling, giving in goodness and action, are furry snowball creatures with big round eyes. As children look at the panels, they search for the hidden Shnnoogles.

While Douglas was painting the panels, she was diagnosed with MS. To be equally inspired by Arizona Republic Kathleen Quilligan's feature Artist hopes Shnnoogles bring comfort to hospitalized kids, to find out how Steven and Connie are doing, and the book she plans to write, go here.