I cried in the chapel for the first time...

i don't have any advice..it's just that I do share same personality as what you have (not the type who's good at conversation)and that I can relate so much I have to read it twice More often though, when I am in an awkward situation with a patient I just find LISTENING and or a tap on a pt's shoulder works just fine.

I thought you handled it very well. Maybe offer the chaplain's services next time.Nothing wrong with a good cry, wherever it may be. We are human and need to let our frustrations out.

Just imagine if it were you. Would you want someone to fumble around for words, say something that is well-meant but might completely miss the mark so then YOU have to accept their apology later, lay out some platitude in an attempt to be "supportive"? Or would you like that person to sit down next to you silently, pass the tissues, perhaps touch your arm, and just be there with you until you feel able to speak?I vote for number two. Silence is not always a bad thing, and it's easy to do.

I think you handled it flawlessly....you expressed empathy and understanding....yet offered support in a non obtrusive way letting him know you were there and understood without empty words and hollow expressions.Sometimes we speak volumes in a single phrase....Welcome to nursing!There are times I think our own vulnerability/mortality, or that of those we love, dances across our heart and minds leaving us emotional and aware of our own mortality. We realize just how little control was actually have in our lives.....and that is overwhelming....humbling....frightening.((HUGS)) great job!

I have no doubt your patient knows you care. How many nurses take a half hour to listen to their patient? When this happens to me I hand tissues, hold their hand and say I am there for them, I am on their side, and to me support is shown more in actions than words. You've certainly shown that to him.

You handled the situation perfectly. Many of us find silence uncomfortable and we attempt to fill the silence with meaningless words. We stumble and blurt out the first thing that comes to our minds. In times like this, the best thing we can do is offer the gift of our silent presence and support. By being silent, we show the patient that we are accepting and comfortable with their emotion. A gentle touch conveys a lot. It lets the patient know that they can look to us as one with whom they can share their emotional pain.If a situation gets beyond what you can handle, it is quite appropriate to seek the assistance from those who have more experience/training in handling such issues. It does get easier, but don't let your feelings go away. Your tears are not a sign of weakness. Compassion is a vital quality to have for providing great nursing care.For more insight on nurses who cry, you might want to read When Nurses Cry.

I think you did just fine.

You hit exactly the right note with this patient. And I think this situation got to you because seeing a proud, strong man cry tends to tug at our heartstrings. I know that's the quickest way for me to become a puddle---I melt whenever I witness a man's tears. And there's nothing wrong with that---it simply shows that we have feelings.

It relieves me somewhat that my actions were not as stupid as I felt at the time. I really appreciate the encouragement and suggestions. I wish I were more socially intuitive... Even for little things that may seem like nothing to many of you, I have to consciously think about and calculate my actions. For example:Quote from GrnTeaOr would you like that person to sit down next to you silently, pass the tissues, perhaps touch your arm, and just be there with you until you feel able to speak?I vote for number two. Silence is not always a bad thing, and it's easy to do.

Quote from tnbutterflyFor more insight on nurses who cry, you might want to read When Nurses Cry.

I'm a hospice CNA, and I think you handled it fine. That's one of those times where we are utterly powerless to make any difference in anything at all. Watching someone go through the stages of grief is painful, humbling, and challenges even the most socially apt among us. Watching someone come to terms with their own mortality and start dealing with the fact that they REALLY ARE GOING TO DIE FROM THIS shakes us all to the core, no matter how often we see it. Because it's always the first time for the person going through it. And it's painful and horrible and so deeply personal.I have great social skills and I still struggle with how to correctly approach patients and families at such moments. Because what was right for the last one isn't right for this one. And won't be right for the next one.You were respectful but present. You were compassionate and available without being obtrusive. You did just fine.

I just get down at eye-level, grab a Kleenex box, put my hand on their shoulder or arm and say, "I'm sorry you have to go through this. How can I help you?" And then simply respect whether they want to cry or be to themselves. I usually conclude by saying, "we are going to take good care of you today. Please let me know what I can do for you." As much as I try to be rock-solid with my emotions in my job, I do allow myself to be human and grieve with those who grieve, give comfort to those are wronged and bring hope to those in despair. Last week I triaged a man with 2/10 left chest discomfort for one week which he ignored because he's been under a lot of stress lately. I've found that when a patient verbalizes they've "been under a lot of stress lately" that they usually are waiting to break down and need someone to talk to. So I responded with my usual "things tough at work?" "No, my dad is dying and I'm just waiting for a call any day now from the hospice nurse." Then 30 sec later as I'm getting vitals, his cell phone rings. It's the hospice nurse. He hangs up and says " I gotta go. My dad is dying today and I need to drive 5 hrs to get there. " Talk about awkward. What do you say to someone who just discovered this is there last opportunity in life to see the person who brought them into this world. I handed him a Kleenex, took one for myself, said how sorry I was for him and then tactfully convinced him (out of serious concern for AMI) to give me 4 min to do an EKG. 5 min later he was on my monitor with a MD consulting cardiology. He went straight to the cath lab. And I wondered how the doc was going to break it to him. And he sat down at his eye level and said "I really want you to be with your dad today, but your heart is not getting enough oxygen right now and maybe this is your dads way of looking out for you " the man completed accepted his words and in between an 18 gauge, o2, nitro, ASA, more nitro and the AMR transport he opened up about his dads life and actually looked less stressed than when he arrived. Sometimes people just need to know you care. And even though we might feel awkward, they don't know we feel awkward. A few simple things and a few short phrases can help them so much. I used to feel uncomfortable because I felt like I needed to have an answer, a solution to everything. Now I realize most people don't want an answer. They just need someone to listen and acknowledge what they are going through. It's a great thing to be a nurse. I hope I never take it for granted.