Health care workers had some great – and some tragic – moments in the sun during the early days of the pandemic, but the country has gotten use to their work and is still paying them less than McDonald’s workers in many cases and once again taking them for granted.

When there’s trouble, it’s so easy, and sometimes necessary – to hide or run. Very few of them did.

Many have given their lives and risked them to take care of people like me, who just expect that they will be there.

Appreciated or not, this is a special breed of human being, I see this at the Mansion all the time (or did, when I could go inside.)

In many ways, I am fortunate to have two chronic diseases – heart disease and diabetes (I don’t think Dyslexia counts).

This has deepened my awareness, heightened my empathy and appreciation for life, inspired me to take better care of myself.

It has also brought me into contact with a number of nurses and health care workers.

That has enriched my life.

This week, I underwent about 15 hours of testing, five or six of them this morning at Saratoga Hospital in Saratoga Springs, N.Y.

These days, testing and hospital visits are more fraught than usual – no visitors, lots of health checks, a lot of tense patients – the process can seem even lonelier than usual.

I had the good fortunate to be assigned L (I forget to get her permission to use her name, so I’ll just use an initial.) The tests I had were not awful, but they were not fun either.

And I didn’t expect to have fun.

L made it fun.

We laughed from the start – about men, hospitals, nursing heart disease, tests, pandemic, paperwork, doctors, and life. She was thoughtful, attentive, and empathetic.

What can I say?

I was well cared for and I told Maria, who was at home thinking of me, that I had a good time. She was surprised.

I got an hour off to have lunch, and I needed that break. I went out to the car, ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich Maria made for me, had a drink of ice water I had packed, called Maria, and fussed about whether I should buy an electric bike when I left the hospital.

They cost a lot, and to be honest, I’m not 100 percent sure yet that I will be able to ride it much. But hope is something else I ride, and I will stay on that.

I was thinking in the car about L, and how nice she and the other nurses were, explaining everything to me, keeping me relaxed, so careful not to hurt me or leave me uncomfortable.

When I talked about being an old man, she started calling me “junior.” She clearly loves what she does, she didn’t have a single complaint to make about it. She said she was grateful to work in a hospital that appreciated what she did.

I wish the country also appreciated what these men and women do. I do.

I have a few more visits to make next, but basically the tests are over. I don’t know the results, but I do know if they found anything seriously wrong, I wouldn’t have gotten to come home.

I went back into the hospital after my lunch and through the intense screening process again.

I went into the hospital gift shop and brought L some flowers in a vase with a smiley on the side.

She never stopped smiling all through the morning. That means a lot after a few hours of tests. She must have been tired.

I loved the look on her face when she saw the flowers, it was worth all the tests.

L- was shocked and gave me a coronavirus elbow hug.

She really didn’t know what to say. So I said it: “you did a great job, you do wonderful work and ought to earn a million dollars a year. Pandemic or not, I don’t want to ever forget what you do or other health care workers do or take it for granted, as we have always done.”

Thanks.