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Stupid crying self. I cried at clinicals yesterday. :angry:


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So yesterday, I'm at a nursing home. We're feeding people. [And an aside -- how in the world do all these people get fed and toileted when we (the student nurses) are not there??]

 

This sweet little woman who has no use of her arms is eating, and I'm talking to her and, I dunno, telling her I'm sorry that it's hard to understand her and that I'm glad she can tell me when she's had enough, and that if she gets too tired to try to talk and doesn't want any more of something, just to close her mouth and I'll understand. I hold her hand and continue to feed her.

 

So she sorta finishes eating, then starts vocalizing at the top of her lungs. She is practically impossible to understand, as she is hoarse and has some perseveration of syllables and is not clear with anything but "yes" and "good."

 

And she's practically shouting these repeated phrases, and I'm struggling to figure out what she's saying, then it dawns on me. She's singing a hymn. So me, with my brain imprinted with more hymns than Charles Wesley ever even thought about writing -- I was working at a UMC nursing home, hence the reference to Wesley -- I am compelled to lean over and sing along into her ear. My singing to her calmed her, although I'm not sure she was agitated exactly, just maybe exuberent.

 

But what does poetry do? What does singing do? They make me freakin' cry, that's what. So I sit and sing and try not to sob, and after I leave Ms. Effie I go to the alcove where I won't be seen, let it out, push my tear ducts shut, then go to check up on a resident whose best buddy left for Alabama last week. I'm all nice and calm, figuring I got away with the whole stupid crying thing, and the lunch room lady -- I'm sure she has a more official title -- comes out and starts asking me why I was crying. Did anyone say something to me? To one of the patients? Was it a patient? A staff member? A nurse? A CNA?

 

Nope, I'm just a little overwhelmed today, says I, unwilling to explain that it is inevitable that I will sob on verse five of Oh For a Thousand Tongues at any given time, and particularly after a day where I spent two hours interpreting for a scared deaf, almost blind woman who was absolutely freaking out in a place where no one understand sign language. (!!) Just overwhelmed, I say, no one offended me. She *seemed* satisfied, hugged me, went away.

 

Then next thing I know, the Director of Nursing walks around the corner, hugs me, pats my back, tells me "We love you, you know," which starts me ACTUALLY crying. Good grief.

 

Very professional, yes? I'm making a FINE impression here in Tennessee. :-PPPPPP (And yeah, I know, it's not bad to show compassion, yada yada, but do you know how STUPID I feel? Stupid. Out of control and *stupid*. I *hate* crying in public.)

 

I think I'm going to apply for jobs in Alaska. Someplace where I won't ever sing a hymn, read a poem, or get hugged by the director of nursing.

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Oh, Pam. :grouphug::grouphug::grouphug:

 

It's okay. It probably made everyone feel like at last there was a human being with feelings in their midst. My sister worked in nursing homes for years and you could see that people (not her) that worked there got numb to it all. Emotion is okay and probably very good for places like that.

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Well, I can assure you that it IS touching--what you're doing and singing! And I can also assure you that nobody, NOBODY, thought your were stupid! In fact, I bet you just lodged a little chunk in their heart for you! Yep, that's what I think!

 

BTW, I'm the same way--cry at stuff like that and feel stupid. But noone else thinks that of you! You're doing a great thing!

 

(and I agree, I don't think that work gets done without student nurses! My mom was just in a retirement center for recovery after a surgery, and it was awful!)

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Awwww... we love you too, you know. ((Pam)) You're going to make a fine nurse.

 

ETA P.S. I know how it feels to be upset with yourself when you get emotional in a professional situation. It can be very, very frustrating. I'm sorry you're beating up on yourself right now.... you know, we all do the best we can and I'm sure every worker at the facility has been where you were yesterday at one time or another. Try to be kind with yourself and look forward, not back.

 

((Pam))

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What does singing do? They make me freakin' cry, that's what. (And yeah, I know, it's not bad to show compassion, yada yada, but do you know how STUPID I feel? Stupid. Out of control and *stupid*. I *hate* crying in public.)

 

Oh, sweetheart (OK, this is just how I talk to people - can't help it - apologies, etc.), may I please be one of no doubt MANY to tell you that this - this FLAW that you see - is what will make you a great nurse?!! No, be quiet, it will. Stop talking back. (Oh, wait, that was how I talk to my 11 yr old.)

 

Anyway, I too cry. The sadness in the world sometimes overwhelms me (like last weekend, for example - nothing in particular - just grief over this patient, that patient, this news article, etc.), and I cry (don't even get me STARTED on singing - I thought it was normal to wear sunglasses in church until I was an adult and noticed that *not* everyone's mother was wearing them! I have a proud family history of crying). I sing with patients (dementia care, remember?), and I usually get teary, which makes it difficult to demonstrate to the caregivers how Mr. O might actually DO better if they sing to him because he knows and loves the old hymns, but the diaper changes? Not so much.

 

I have had family members comfort ME (uh, yeah, you want to talk "professional"?! Bring it ON!) when their loved one died. Yikes! However, I recently was in a group of health-care folks where we were discussing "stuff" like this - so I brought it up, hesitantly, embarrassedly, "hating to lose control and look stupid," and the unanimous opinion was "This is a GOOD thing for families to see." (OK, I mean, you don't want to deliver bad news while sobbing hysterically, but *empathy* is a good thing!)

 

I know that you are not a believer now, but one thing that helped my mom was when someone told her that they thought she had a "ministry of tears." Although the specific belief isn't there for you, maybe there's something about your feeling things so deeply that could seem "ministerial?"

 

Keep the Kleenex handy, but don't become one of those dried-up ol' cusses who doesn't feel anything. I think we NEED more of us cry-ers in the world!

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A few days before my mom passed away, I was up at the hospital, giving my dad a break. We had the TV on and the Christian group Mercy Me was performing. They started singing "I Can Only Imagine". I was in the middle of feeding my mom and I lost it. I couldn't stop crying. A nurse was in there checking her I.V. when it happened. I looked at her and she had tears in her eyes. Her compassion has really stuck with me. The nursing staff at the hospital was so wonderful.

 

I know you feel ridiculous, but know that nobody thinks you are. You blessed that woman and you will be a blessing to so many other people as a nurse.

 

:grouphug:

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I could give you so many big :grouphug: for showing such love and compassion to this poor old woman.

 

FWIW, I worked my way through college by being a CNA at a nursing home. It was the hardest job I ever had to do---both physically and emotionally. I remember one older gentleman loved to play the piano, so sometimes, if I had a few spare minutes, I would sit down and play the piano with him. So many of these older people have lost so much, and it means so much to them to have someone just meet them where they're "at", so to speak. Singing with them, dressing their hair, dabbing some perfume and makeup on them (or cologne---whatever), reading poetry---it all makes a difference. Sometimes we don't feel it does, because some of them have lost much of their capacity to understand what's going on around them. But---it matters.

 

Thanks for caring for these people.

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There have been a few times (far too few) when a nurse or medical "other" showed true compassion to me in a time of uncertainty and it meant EVERYTHING. They were clearly in tune with my needs (not physical but emotional) and it gave me strength.

 

Please don't feel stupid! I love that you have a tender heart. I would much rather hang around someone who can allow themselves to be emotionally touched than with someone who shows no emotion. It's a far more real existence.

 

So go ahead...cry in public unashamed.:) Come west a little bit, and I'll cry with you (I could use a good one).

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Jesus, the name that charms our fears

That bids our sorrows cease

Ă¢â‚¬ËœTis music in the sinnerĂ¢â‚¬â„¢s ears

Ă¢â‚¬ËœTis life and health and peace

 

Sometimes that music in the sinner's ears that brings life and health and peace is overwhelming, and makes us cry. Sing on.... cry on... you are being His hands and heart. Bravo.

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I think this is what's going to make you the most wonderful nurse ever! You are so absolutely sweet!:grouphug:

:iagree:

 

My mom had this one hospice nurse, she became real close to momma. The week momma died, she is the one that came and told us and momma that the time was near. She kept having to pause while she was talking, when she left, I happened to look out the window and she was wiping her eyes going down the ramp. Momma died that weekend. I would rather see emotion from caregivers, that way I know they are human too, they have feelings just like everybody else.

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You are not stupid, only unaccustomed...and that's not such a liability.

 

I'm sure they're used to students losing it--there's probably a lot of turnover in nursing homes for that very reason. You're not out of control, you're human--a wonderful thing to be in that very place, where so often there's a lot more doctoring and nursing and feeding and changing going on rather than compassion.

 

I had the same experience in my psych class where I had to interview a classmate. We had a certain number of questions to get through, but when she said that among other things she had COPD my mind just stopped dead in its tracks. My dad had COPD, and all I could think of was that six-foot-three, 120 pound shell of a man in that casket with my father's blue suit on...the constant snick-snick-snick of the portable oxygen he eventually had to carry...the way he hunched over just to try to get a little more air. I had to copy the transcript for the assignment and I almost didn't do it. I cried that whole evening trying to get through it. Even though I didn't finish the assignment, my professor told me I learned something much more valuable.

 

You will never forget that wonderful little lady, and it may be raw now, but years from now you will be able to recall that story for an up-and-comer who just happens to show her humanity.

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This is why you are made to do what you are doing.

 

As a third year student on my surgical rotation, one of my patient's was a 19 year old who was left in a vegetative state after a car accident. He was the only child of the most lovely couple I have ever met. He was on the step-down unit which was in the round with windows so the nurses could see into the rooms. One early morning, as I rounded with another medical student, four surgical residents including the chief, and a a surgery attending, all male, I saw his father in there just talking away to him as he exercised his legs. I completely and totally lost it, on surgery rounds.

 

A quick, "What the...?" from the chief, and a pat on the back, I presented his case for the morning through my tears, they all listened, we made our notes and went on.

 

I was encouraged to pursue a career in surgery by that team, the most cynical people I'd ever met in my life!

 

And this is just one in a long line of stories of rounding in tears during my short medical career. I cried A LOT. And I was a good doctor.

 

Just remember that compassion and professionalism are not mutually exclusive! My dad lived for several years in a nursing home, and if I thought for one second that anyone he came across there would have sung a hymn with him, or heaven forbid, been moved to tears by it, I would have slept so much better at night.

 

You will be a GREAT nurse!!!

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I know that you are not a believer now, but one thing that helped my mom was when someone told her that they thought she had a "ministry of tears." Although the specific belief isn't there for you, maybe there's something about your feeling things so deeply that could seem "ministerial?"

 

Absolutely! Pam, I would be beyond blessed to know that you cried for a member of my family. :grouphug::grouphug::grouphug:

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Last Sunday, you may recall, we attended our karate tournament. All the big shots from all over the state joined together for this event to posture, and glare, and be tough. You can imagine it, I'm sure - a whole gym full of mostly men and a few women and a bunch of kids, all trying hard to maintain that look.

 

At the end of that very long day, the head dude and all the many black belts from the various dojos lined up to read out the places and to give promotions. When that part was done, the eight top men (and one woman) who are the biggest of the bigs centered up at half court in a semi-circle and proceeded to promote one of their own to a higher rank. Part way through the ceremony she...yes, the honoree was another woman...began to cry. She had her back to me, but it was clear that she was crying by the gentle shake of her shoulders. At the top of that semi-circle was an Nth degree (?) black belt, an old school martial artist, higher ranking even than my own sensei who has been in the Order for 25 years. The man wasn't misty. There were big tears falling down his cheeks. At some point, he took out a tissue (he was prepared!) and wiped his eyes, blew his nose, and put his glasses back on. I found it wonderful. I have the idea that he found it annoying, but I could be wrong. Maybe, after all these years, he's learned that being tough and having heart are not mutually exclusive.

 

Hugs, Pam.

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Of course you realize that I am crying now too. :glare:

 

I wasn't going to, but then you had to go and refer to her as Miss Effie and I had an aunt named Effie who was in a nursing home and....thanks Pam.

 

You're going to be the best nurse ever. You were born for this job. Your patients will love you and so will the staff.

 

And don't worry, you and I will both be able to stop crying in about 8 years, I think. That's when this period in our lives will be over, right?;)

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Pam you are exactly the nurse I'd want to have or have caring for a family member. You're a compassionate which should be a pre-requisite for those in the medical field. I do get it about crying in public, I don't mind a little tear, tear but more often than not if I let a little loose a flood follows.:grouphug:

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It has the same effect on me. In fact, half the congregation at my church probably thinks I am going through some horrible ordeal because I'm crying through most of the service (we sing a lot.) Sometimes I try to hide behind the bulletin or take one of my kids to the bathroom. I feel so pathetic. Perhaps we can start a club - The Musical Criers Association?

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Oh, Pam, I so know how you feel. For some reason, ever since I had kids I get very emotional when I hear hymns. And recently, I just seem to be tearing up over odd things. And I *hate* to cry in public.

 

But I have to tell you that I wish there were more nurses like you. My dear, sweet 81 year old grandmother is currently staying in a nursing home while she (hopefully) recovers enough from her last fall, broken leg, and surgery to go home. I have such a hard time going there because I hate nursing homes. They are such sad, sterile, hopeless, institutional, depressing, awful places to me. I remember going to this same facility to visit/sing to the patients when I was a teenager/college student, and always feeling so sad that these people were once my age, so full of life and dreams and never imagining that they would one day just lie here waiting to die, with no family or friends, nothing familiar and colorful and comforting. Just people who are paid to care for them and are overworked. People who really don't care about them and really don't have enough time to adequately care for them. It would make me feel so comforted to know that my grandma had a nurse who actually cared.

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That is wonderful and sweet. You are very compassionate. I remember one Christmas when I was in my teens I went to a convalescent hospital to sing carols to the patients there. I spent the entire time bawling. In my own experience in hospitals, nurses were more important than doctors because they understand and cared. You're going to be a *great* nurse.

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So yesterday, I'm at a nursing home. We're feeding people. [And an aside -- how in the world do all these people get fed and toileted when we (the student nurses) are not there??]

 

 

 

I choked up at work today. I never do. My dear fellow R is dwindling and maybe dying at 45 and I don't know why, and every time he goes out to the hospital he comes back weaker and sicker with yet another tube. His labs are better, every scan is negative, and he just gets worse.

 

He needs a crack nursing home, not the dark, windowless seclusion room on a psych ward because it is the only room where he can be roommate-less, but who will take a man whose every other word is foul, and who needs restraints sometimes?

 

Yesterday he wouldn't get out of bed and and I told him we'd lift him into a chair.

R: Let's not and say we did.

Me: My mother said that!

R: Grandma

Me: Why won't you get up R?

R: Grandma says "R is lazy".

Me: How are we going to get you up, R? How can you eat and drink if you are on your stomach?

R: What does grandma say?

Me: She says get up and get in the chair

 

And R smiles a sly smile.

R has lived his meager life with a loving mother, held together with Lithium and booze. Now with his kidneys and other organs permanently damaged by decades of lithium it is very hard to control his mania off the lithium, and he seems to be dying by inches. Today, after he vomited all night, I told him we had to send him to the hospital again. He put up a his long bony hand and squeezed my fingers and mouthed Thank You. I just couldn't stay in the room.

 

My staff is distraught, they keep asking "what are we going to do". We are not a death ward, but it is living there now, and the staff just aren't used to it. And the labs are good, and the scan is negative, and he'll be back from the ER tonight, weaker, more silent, and his favourite nurse will be sorry he is no longer saying dirty words to her and trying to lick her arm, in between turning his head to the side and barking at an invisible person "Shut up, R. Cut it out, R."

 

And I'll call all weekend, and I'll wish I'd met him when he was younger and stronger, and I'll think of how my brother, back when he was in med school and I was a teen, said "I used to think all doctors were bastards, and now I know why they are", and I said nothing until a decade later, when I was dragging through med school, and I called him and just said "Okay, why?" and HE KNEW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT, and replied "Every day they are asked to do the impossible, and every day they try, and every day they fail."

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One day you will write a book and we will all buy it for everyone we know and you will be having us all laughing and crying with you and your sweet, compassionate, funny self. And you will retire on the earnings and tour the south of France/Caribbean and live happily ever after, singing Wesley hymns into the ears of unsuspecting ladies who needed someone to step up and help them not be afraid. And by then, just think of the stories you'll have to tell.

 

I just love you. Sniff.

 

:grouphug:

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Ok, you guys have me crying for real. You are so sweet, thinking I'm all that. I'm not, really, I'm not. Unless I have some kind of amazing change of life, I'll never be able to bear working, actually *working* day to day in a nursing home. I would not last a week, and that is the absolute truth. Kalanamak is right. Trying to do the impossible every single day and only getting it partly right or failing would turn me into a right hateful woman. I do truly think so. The innocent suffering of those people just rips my heart out.

 

But you all do know I was posting about the idea of getting caught crying and the sheer embarrassment of it, right? I did feel just torn up that day, doing some good after getting up early, gritting my teeth, and telling myself I would smile and just do my best, dammit, because training at the nursing home just leaves me drained and sad. But it's not why I cried. I cried because I just can't control that anymore. (And some of you did get that, and for those of you who didn't, it's not a big deal, it's just that I wanted to make sure you don't think that I think I'm something all that wonderful because I shed tears.)

 

The people who do this day in, day out with sheer hard work, doing what they can and not ripping themselves to ineffectual-ness (??) by fretting about all the good that they cannot do, those are the folks I admire. It's easy to take the time to sing and be gentle and help when you have one person to take care of and you'll be outta there in two hours. When there're four people to feed, only two hands, and you bear the guilt that at least two have to wait, you can't serve everyone warm food, and you know that someone will be humiliated that they have to wet their Depends because there is no possible way that you can get them to the bathroom on time and anyway, you have no help to get them to the toilet, it's not quite so idyllic, KWIM? It's easy to be the student nurse and swoop in and feel all, "Well, if I worked here, things sure would be different. You people just don't care. I can't believe you [insert horrible thing you observed]. I can't believe you don't [insert wonderful thing you would do if you were The Nursing Home Fairy]." Yeah, no.

 

You are all so, so encouraging. I have felt so down, nursing school-wise, in the past three weeks. (And yes, those of you who have PM'd me, I've denied it or skirted around it, and I'm sorry about that.) The reality of September (senior practicum) is staring me in the face, and I'm terrified about having enough physical and emotional energy to do this. I'm banking on the "I know I can" attitude, but day to day looking toward this, it's scary as hell.

 

People do this. People do much harder things that this. I can do this. I just need someone to kick me in the pants, tell me to get over myself and that I'm not so special that I can't work hard and DO this, and that I won't emotionally lose it not being able to keep up.

 

Thanks for the hugs and the encouragement and just for caring. :grouphug:

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Pam, I "got" why you cried initially. I think that what I was trying to convey, and perhaps others were too, is that no matter what the reason, the perception of the "cafeteria" lady and the nursing director was that you are a caring person and that is a good thing.

 

You can do this and you will do it. I know it and feel it right down to my toes.

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Ok, you guys have me crying for real. You are so sweet, thinking I'm all that. I'm not, really, I'm not. Unless I have some kind of amazing change of life, I'll never be able to bear working, actually *working* day to day in a nursing home. I would not last a week, and that is the absolute truth. Kalanamak is right. Trying to do the impossible every single day and only getting it partly right or failing would turn me into a right hateful woman. I do truly think so. The innocent suffering of those people just rips my heart out.

 

But you all do know I was posting about the idea of getting caught crying and the sheer embarrassment of it, right? I did feel just torn up that day, doing some good after getting up early, gritting my teeth, and telling myself I would smile and just do my best, dammit, because training at the nursing home just leaves me drained and sad. But it's not why I cried. I cried because I just can't control that anymore. (And some of you did get that, and for those of you who didn't, it's not a big deal, it's just that I wanted to make sure you don't think that I think I'm something all that wonderful because I shed tears.)

 

The people who do this day in, day out with sheer hard work, doing what they can and not ripping themselves to ineffectual-ness (??) by fretting about all the good that they cannot do, those are the folks I admire. It's easy to take the time to sing and be gentle and help when you have one person to take care of and you'll be outta there in two hours. When there're four people to feed, only two hands, and you bear the guilt that at least two have to wait, you can't serve everyone warm food, and you know that someone will be humiliated that they have to wet their Depends because there is no possible way that you can get them to the bathroom on time and anyway, you have no help to get them to the toilet, it's not quite so idyllic, KWIM? It's easy to be the student nurse and swoop in and feel all, "Well, if I worked here, things sure would be different. You people just don't care. I can't believe you [insert horrible thing you observed]. I can't believe you don't [insert wonderful thing you would do if you were The Nursing Home Fairy]." Yeah, no.

 

You are all so, so encouraging. I have felt so down, nursing school-wise, in the past three weeks. (And yes, those of you who have PM'd me, I've denied it or skirted around it, and I'm sorry about that.) The reality of September (senior practicum) is staring me in the face, and I'm terrified about having enough physical and emotional energy to do this. I'm banking on the "I know I can" attitude, but day to day looking toward this, it's scary as hell.

 

People do this. People do much harder things that this. I can do this. I just need someone to kick me in the pants, tell me to get over myself and that I'm not so special that I can't work hard and DO this, and that I won't emotionally lose it not being able to keep up.

 

Thanks for the hugs and the encouragement and just for caring. :grouphug:

 

Pam, no matter what your reason for crying, your heart really does come through on this board. The reason you will always get an outpouring of support is because you are a very compassionate and wise person. It comes through in your posts. You just can't fake that!!

 

You are doing a VERY hard job. There is just no way around that. Some days you will need to weep and some days you will probably need to laugh inappropriately, just to cope.

 

It will be hard. But, I believe with all my heart that you will be the best darn nurse around!! And, we'll be here to cheer you on and pat you on the back.

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I think you are a great nurse who really cares about her patients. (Can you come to Kansas City and be mine for a while?)

 

True confessions: The only thing I hate worse in myself besides crying in public is.... laughing in public. Four kids, weak bladder and you get the idea!

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I'll never be able to bear working, actually *working* day to day in a nursing home. I would not last a week, and that is the absolute truth.

 

Well, having done just that for the past 13+ years, I'll take a stab: yes, you would (last, that is). Actually, there is more laughter where I work than any job I've ever had - more tears, too. I've quoted it here before (from A Severe Mercy) - (paraphrasing, this time) "I'd rather take the highs and lows, the joys and the pain, than the safe middle ground."

 

But you all do know I was posting about the idea of getting caught crying and the sheer embarrassment of it, right? I cried because I just can't control that anymore.

 

I think we knew that, but we were trying to tell you that you most likely wouldn't be crying in the first place (that is, WOULD be able to control that) if you didn't feel things deeply - and that's a good thing! (You know, it's NOT like incontinence, where lack of control *might* just mean you're gettin' old! :D) (I know you posted in another thread about crying at inappropriate times, but it didn't seem to me as though you were crying when you, say, buy gum! You're crying when you feel something more than the average bear.)

 

I can do this. I just need someone to kick me in the pants, tell me to get over myself and that I'm not so special that I can't work hard and DO this

 

mad0012.gif You're not so special ... etc.

 

Pam, you'll do great.

 

And to the other folks, may I just say: I work in a nursing home that's bright and doesn't stink except when they serve fish (I was morning sick for 41 wks, but never at the NH!), and whose caregivers CARE and cry when people die, and whose family members often stay on as volunteers after their loved ones die, and where it's a pleasure to work. It's not perfect, but the people who work here LOVE (and I use that term thoughtfully) the patients - even the more unlovable ones! We have caregivers who have been here for more than 30 (thirty) years - what a hard job! But they're great at it! Nursing homes do NOT have to be sterile, dank, depressing places! (...and Pam, with you there, I'm sure they're not! Maybe *damp* but not dank! :))

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I worked with an oncologist for a while. He cried with every patient he ever gave "the bad news." People, including me, thought he was wonderful. If I ever needed an oncologist, I would travel a long way to have him as my doctor.

 

Crying is better than almost getting fired. I once called a local news station to come and do a story on a patient I had who was being deported because he had gotten sick and couldn't attend classes- he was in the U.S. on a student VISA. It was a horrible situation. I tried to tell the reporter- Trace Gallagher who now works for FOX- that I couldn't give my name, but he tracked me down and I got chewed out by the Director of Nursing. She gave me a lecture about not caring so much in the lives of my patients...she was wrong. Keep your heart softened, Pam.

 

I'm proud of you.

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You will see much over the years you spend in your new career. (And We are so proud of you on the boards!)

Your sweet, soft heart is one of the things that will make you a great nurse.

Gotta say, I have tears pouring down my face just reading your post so I am not much better at holding back on that sort of stuff. :grouphug:

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Oh! Hold on to that tenderness...that's the makings of a fabulous nurse - the one who goes the extra mile for her patients. Nursing is really an opportunity in diguise - you get to meet folks at a tough point in thier lives and bless them. Talk about being His hands and feet! I worked at a nursing home as a CNA while I was getting my BSN...it was a horrible place. The staff were so uncaring and low class (all they talked about was drinking, thier man, etc...) no one even knew I was a student. The nurse on duty was on probation for having failed her boards (she eventually passed) I mentioned I was taking my boards the next week. She literally said, "YOU?! An AIDE? Yeah right!" I passed, handed in my resignation and was then offered a job by the DON. I told her in a nice way that I would never work at a place that tolerated nastiness and a culture of gossip and backstabbing and almost a caste system where CNA's were the lowest of the low. I went on to do critical care and never forgot how I had been treated as a CNA - I really tried to show my CNA's that I needed and appreciated them! Hang in there! Sorry about the vent - it felt good though :)

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