Human beings can be brutal creatures. We kill strangers; we kill family; we drop bombs on each other’s families.

Yet there are people who, despite the horrors, make our tiny blue planet just a bit better.

I recently experienced a serving of their service:

In the wee hours of Dec 27th, in front of my bathroom sink, I collapsed.

I went back to bed. Yeah, stupid.

I had a heart murmur for years, due to my stupider smoking years.

Now I’m a bit less stupid—sometimes.

My cardiologist repeated echocardiograms for the murmur and referred me to a gastroenterologist for hernia and stomach pain.

The gastro said, in effect, “The risk of hernia intervention was not worth the reward,” and prescribed meds for my stomach. I said, “Okay.”

When I reported the bathroom fall to my cardiologist, he said, “Well, you might have been dizzy from your meds. We’ll do another Echo in July.”

This was in January.

Disappointed, I felt it was time to see other doctors.

Dr. Dubowsky, my new cardiologist from Mt. Sinai Health Service, sent me for an angiogram: my aortic heart valve opened less than a third of normal. My coronary arteries were eighty to ninety percent blocked.

It was time for action now—not another Echo test in July, when I’m writing this.

Open-heart surgery meant one day of intubation plus five days of hospitalization. Then four to six weeks of recovery.

Dr. Dubowsky and I thought one-day, minimally invasive procedures were better.

Now, Mt. Sinai, my healthcare service, and Mt. Sinai Hospital are wonderful, with plenty of highly capable healthcare providers.

One such provider I see often is Dr. Dubowsky’s nurse, Courtney.

Her friendliness eases each visit. I could sense this care was genuine and innate.

But as you will see, Courtney was only a sample of the heart of healthcare that unfolded before me.

I told Dr. Dubowsky I wanted a surgeon with deep experience affiliated with Catholic Health Service’s Hospital, St. Francis, in Roslyn, NY—the Heart Hospital.

My extended family was happy with St. Francis. Many retired Transit cops found new careers there; I heard good things from them too. (Thank you, Walter.)

Dr. Dubowsky referred me to Cardiac Surgeon Dr. Andrew Lituchy at St. Francis and their heart valve TAVR team.

While waiting at 2200 Northern Blvd, East Hills, to see Dr. Lituchy, I noticed a laminated menu folder on a nearby table with amazing offerings.

It was a list of people who had recently undergone heart procedures. It gave their names, towns, and telephone numbers for inquiries.

Wow! I never saw a reference list like this.

I also noticed that as each Health Aide called a name, they did so with a smile and welcoming words. I was impressed. 

My greeter mentioned that all staff love their work. Later, OR nurse Nicole shared with me that Catholic Health Services screens all hires with this in mind.

Four procedures soon followed:

Clogged arteries came before a hernia.

But as I was about to be wheeled into the OR, Dr. Litucy stopped by.

I said, “Ready to go, but this hernia is causing me more trouble than my heart. I swam and biked yesterday with no problem, but last week I went to the ER for my hernia and stomach pain.”

After some thought, he said, “We’re aborting this mission; we’re going to take care of the hernia first.”

I liked his flexibility.

I had the hernia operation by Dr. Giuffrida, and bang zoom, no more hernia or stomach pain.

I could even drink coffee again.

I’ve since learned that the hernia can cause gastrointestinal distress.

Why didn’t the first gastro say that, instead of: “the risk, it’s not worth the reward.

Dr. Lituchy implanted nine stents in two one-day procedures. He said, “You can drive a truck through there now.”

Finally, I had the TVAR aortic heart valve put in by Dr. William Chung.

This was an overnight stay, but it was as good as it could be.

The staff even drew drapes to darken my private room in 3 East.

The hall was quiet; hardly any noise invaded my room.

I was so impressed by this experience that I had to write this essay.

When I asked the staff why they worked at this, they invariably said they loved helping people.

These are some of the terrific humans I speak of, the healthcare workers who make our tiny blue planet just a bit better:

Brianna said, “I love interacting with people.” She said, “I always felt I had a calling to help others.”

An example of dedication:

I hoped never to have to use those damned plastic urinals. But I couldn’t leave my bed, so that night I asked for one.

When Nursing Aide Danielle brought one and asked, “Do you need any help? I said, “No.” She said, “Are you sure?” I said, “Yes.”

I was impressed. If I were in that position, I would have asked once and then—bolted for the door. Asking twice was dedication.

Danielle said she likes to help people and has applied to nursing school.

When I later thanked Danielle for her dedication, she reached out and squeezed my hand. I’ll never forget Danielle or her heartfelt squeeze.

Later, I had been in bed for many hours when, sadly, I needed the urinal again.

Megan gave it to me.

With wires and tubing attached, I had to remain on my back. I couldn’t sleep. I was so tense, my back muscles ached.

I asked Megan if I could get a back rub. She gave me a massage and my back melted under her hands.

I asked Megan why she got into nursing. She said it started with horses. Yes, horses.

After that, she worked at an animal hospital in West Babylon, NY, for twenty years.

It was time to help the less-innocent creatures on our tiny blue planet —human beings.

She went to nursing school, became an RN, and is giving even more help from her stallion-sized heart.

Dr. Chung, Director of the St. Francis TAVR valve team, stopped by to see me. I said I felt fantastic and was looking forward to going home after a full spring tune-up.

Dr. Chung and Dr. Henry, who assisted, do eight valve replacements per day, two days a week.

They performed over 600 such procedures last year with a success rate of 99%.

I was heading home after the signing of discharge papers and wanted to speak with someone in the hall. I disconnected my wires and left my room.

A voice in the hall commanded, “What are you doing?” I said, “I’m going home in a few minutes, I just want to speak…”

The voice commanded, “You can’t do that. Go back, go back. You may be the boss at home, but here, I’m the boss.”

I had just met Nursing Assistant, Marcella.

I went back into my room before she got physical.

Marcella and I chatted about her move from Chile at 39.

She said she had four horses to care for in Chile, the first of which she had when she was one.

There seems to be a lot of horse love in this world of care. Maybe it’s creature love, and we humans, with creature status, just make the cut.

After arriving from Chile, Marcella initially worked as a house cleaner, then a health aide, and finally as a nursing assistant, saying she loves helping people.

She put my socks on, and she even held my underwear open for me to step into.

Marcella, now 64, has served horses and humans well. She retired this month, July 1, 2026.

My sweetheart, Cheryl, was also amazed at Marcella.

A final note:

In past hospital stays, I found the food tolerable. The food here was fresh and plentiful.

I ordered a turkey burger, my favorite.

The burger I got was so thick, juicy, and fresh. So too were the veggies, the fruit salad, the sherbet, and the drinks.

I called food service, and Cynthia said, American Food Service makes them, but they only sell to institutions.

I said, “I should have ordered two of them.” She said, “You can have another.” I said, “I’ll leave here in forty-five minutes.”

In five minutes, “Door Dash” Cynthia was at my door.

I took a photo of Cynthia, and she suggested one with both of us:

Yes, it’s a “small thing.” But it’s the small things that bring us the most joy in life.

The American healthcare system provides great care from caring people. But more needs to be done to ensure all Americans receive quality care.

I’m sure many of you have stories like mine. Sadly, many others do not.

Yes, there is cruelty on our planet, but there is also great care.

Caregivers feel it’s an honor to serve just as our military does.

We should thank them for their service as we do our veterans.

I couldn’t include everyone who helped me; they’re just a small sample of the many. They are also a tiny sample of those around our globe doing so for humankind.

They ease pain; they help heal. They quietly remind us of the goodness of humankind. They restore hope in humankind.

My newly renovated heart goes out to all the staff of CHS St. Francis Hospital, Mount Sinai Hospital, and its Health Care System.

It goes out to all humans who devote their lives to caring for others—in America and across our tiny blue planet.

You all have my deepest gratitude and my Marine salute.

Be well,

Leebythesea

Please visit my darker side photo essays, Wherethesundontshine