Thoughts on Boo Hoo

There was a blurb on CBS News early this morning about crying in the workplace, and how shedding a tear can keep folks, particularly women, from climbing the ladder at their workplace. Particularly damaging are crying episodes in a meeting, or during a heated argument among co-workers.

I admit that I have shed a few tears at work. I have never cried about a patient, even the ones that have died under very unfortunate circumstances (the patient that died on her 60th anniversary), or patients that have particularly sad courses (the 20-something firefighter that lost two brothers in 9/11, a mother to breast cancer, who discovered he also has cancer).

Two of the co-anchors, both female, suggested that crying in a male co-worker was a good thing -- sensitivity and all that. I guess it could be. But by the time these patients get to me, there has already been a lot of crying. A lot of sad faces. A lot of empty apologies from people that don't have anything to offer except a hollow-sounding apology.

By the time they get to me, they need something more. They need someone to anticipate their needs. They need someone to relieve their pain. Relieve their hunger. Relieve their lonliness. They need someone to turn away well-meaning visitors (when they are exhausted). To get a roast beef sandwich (when the green jello tastes like copper). To get a new IV line on the first stick (when the IV pump beeps incessantly). To ask the physician for Dilaudid (when the morphine is as effective as salty water). I guess I could cry while doing this, but I'd end up tripping over my own two feet (and I'd miss the vein).

There were two occasions when I did lose it at work. The first time, looking back on it, seems silly now. I was frustrated because I couldn't get a blood pressure on a patient, after trying to do so with four automatic vital machines. I guess I was tired, or just plain emotionally strung out. I mean, I should have just gotten a manual pressure and been done with it. I actually had to walk into an empty office, put my face in my hands, and boo-hooed for 10 minutes.

The second time, it was about a month before I threw in the towel at The Old Place. I was just exhausted emotionally from the conflict between me and my boss and the team leaders. I usually seek out conflict (it's a flaw in my personality -- I have to constantly guard against it), but that night, I was tired, and couldn't see any light at the end of any tunnel. Friends of mine were quitting (or being fired) at an astonishing rate. Every time I clocked in, I had to steel myself before walking onto the unit. A few times, I would have to get to work 20 minutes early so I could sit in the car and gather the strength to put in another 12 hours. So one night, I just had to excuse myself, lock myself in the bathroom, and, again, put my face in my hands and boo-hooed.

I see quite a bit of crying in my line of work. Not just patients and their families. Nurses come to me when they are upset about this or that. Or I have to call them into my office, because I am upset about this or that, which sometimes makes them cry.

It is a tough call, when a co-worker starts to cry. Crying usually happens when The Utter Truth is revealed about some situation. At times, what people tell me when they are crying is exactly what I need to hear (because it's the truth, or it's that person's perception of the truth). So if (and only if -- iff, if you're fluent in Boolean logic) my relationship with that person is strong enough, I try to keep the conversation going, while giving them a safe place to cry. Almost always, I get what I need to fix some problem.

I don't know if that's really therapeutic. I never learned it at a leadership seminar (do any of us ever learn anything at any of those?) But it seems to work. At least for me.

Comments

[shrimplate]

Family situations, in which I have explained my concern for the patient, have led me to cry.

Elephants could have showered in my tears. My tears could wet cement, and turn it back to gray mud.

But I am clever. Not entirely manipulative and shallow, mind you. But clever, as well as expressive. It's something I learned from opera and singing teachers ( I was a guitarist and lutenist who often accompanied singers,) back in school.

I would cry so that they could, too. Because they needed to cry, and because I had to help them to do it.

It's like Texas Hold' Em. But slightly more honest, and you don't win anything except the truth.

[Kaitlyn]

Ditto on the not crying over a patient. I always thought it was awful of me not to, especially that one time when everyone in the room was crying except for me. Love your blog! - Kaitlyn

[Jo]

I'm glad I'm not the only one who's never cried over a patient. I've cried once at work, in a private meeting, when I was so angry and frustrated that the options were a) cry, or b) throw somebody through the wall.

I'm not exaggerating there, by the way.

I didn't know you and John worked together. Small world, eh?

[DisappearingJohn]

Well, for what its worth, the old place is now leaderless, as I am sure you have heard by now.

The old boss said it was stress and lack of personal time that did them in...

Kind of ironic, huh?