Once upon a time, I lost someone very near and dear to me. After receiving information about his expectancy of living three to seven more days at the time, I was devastated. I can't even explain to you how surreal it felt. It felt like he wasn't actually going to die and it was just an idea. It did not feel real or even possible; despite the fact the news would ring true and he would end up passing away that Sunday, four days after the prognosis was given.

I went up to the big hospital to see him and sat on his bed with him while he sat there silently in the ICU. I cried along with him and we talked about what would happen and how much we would miss each other. Devastated isn't even the proper word to describe how I felt honestly, it felt as if the other half of my heart was slowly being pried out. That's when it happened. The words that came next made everyone's blood run cold, yet the man I was visiting saying goodbye to, my uncle, and I were the only ones not being able to hear it.

A woman visitor leaned over to my mom and said, "How does she think she will be able to be a nurse if she is acting this way? She can't even control herself and hold herself together."

Maybe she needs a lesson in compassion.

Now to me and everyone else in the room, I was acting fine and normal. Finding out someone you love is dying, what do you expect? Was I supposed to be smiling and laughing? Based off of the ignorant statement, you would think I was sobbing and screaming as loudly as I could. But I wasn't, I was sitting on the bed, leaning on my uncle and crying. Not loud, just quiet audible sniffles and visible tears. My mom immediately but politely fired back at the woman, "It's different when it's family and someone this close. She has been invited to her patient's wakes and funerals and the families request her to stay with them during these hard times."

Now, I am not going to sit here and say when a patient of mine dies, I don't cry. Of course, I cry. I am human. Working and forming relationships based off of trust and respect can cause you to cry when you lose someone you take care of daily and for years at a time. I have sat in a patient's room with the family and cried. I have cried while cleaning them up and sat with them waiting for the funeral home to come get them.

It would be unprofessional at work if I got a bit more than teary in front of families to a certain degree. But tears are a sign of compassion.

And that will not make me any less of a nurse.

My management and I have gotten comments about how caring and compassionate I am and how my presence made a positive difference in their experience with their loved one passing. A family seeing staff feeling the loss of their family member can make the difference between comfort and feeling like a nuisance when it comes to being worried about their love one. A family member who sees compassion from the staff will most likely ask you questions and confide in you versus someone who acts like the don't give a crap about it.

There is an enormous difference between professionalism and being stone cold.

As a human being, I am emotional. Am I going to cry when my patient dies? Maybe. Am I going to cry when someone near and dear and family dies? Of course, I am.

And that will not make me any less of a nurse, but perhaps even more.

My ability to have compassion and cry helps me as a human being and as a nurse. Crying is healthy. Crying is natural.

If I am going to cry because my family, friends, or patients die; I have every right and I will take that right.

Tears are compassion and compassion makes a nurse.

So "how do [I] think [I] will be able to be a nurse if [I] am acting this way?" Simple. I will keep doing what I am doing by being a compassionate, caring and loving person who is going to make an amazing nurse. Being there for people and showing you care can make a sad terrible, traumatic experience into a more bearable one. It can give your loved one kind final moments instead of feeling isolated and alone.