Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Crying Doctors?
How to Be A Good Palliative Care Doctor

This is part one in a planned ongoing series of how to be a palliative care doctor. Why doctor and not nurse or social worker? Because I am a doctor, so I can only speak of what I know, but some of the same ideas probably apply regardless of discipline. If someone wanted to submit this from a SW or RN or other perspective, I would be willing to guest post it here.

The New York Times published an essay by a frequent NYT contributor, physician Barron Lerner about the role of emotions in caring for patients. As one may imagine the piece had much to do with working with patients diagnosed with cancer, and those who were dying, familiar arenas to an experienced palliative care doctor. The question in the essay is rhetorical: Should doctors display emotion? The answer to be found in the essay is a good one: If it fits for you and for the situation it can be powerful and potentially strengthen existing bonds. If crying in public is not your thing, don't go there.

In palliative medicine we encounter many sad, difficult and trying situations which test our emotional stamina daily. In fact for some of us, it may be that visceral connection from human to human attracting us to this specialty. I was surprised in residency when I first discovered 'breaking bad news' and 'compassionate honesty' actually led to praise and gratitude from patients and families who would cry, be angry, and eventually come to a certain peaceful but sad acceptance of dying. Using my medical knowledge to guide patients and families through this was personally rewarding and occasionally emotionally difficult, but I never cried in these meetings. In residency I would have these talks once a month or maybe once a week, but once you start doing palliative medicine full time you do this three to four times a day, sometimes 6 or 7 times.

Withdrawal of a ventilator in the ICU on an inpatient palliative consult service. The prolonged waiting of a slow decline in an inpatient hospice unit. Helping a family understand symptom control on home hospice visits. Three to five times a day you are experiencing the sadness, grief, anger, and stress of others as they approach death. Each time is not an intense 90 minute family meeting, but even if you briefly unleash those raw emotions from a patient or family, and the rest of the visit is upbeat and friendly, you as a palliative care doctor are still using some of your emotional stamina.

For some doctors crying at the bedside of a patient is acknowledgment of grief, impending loss, and the connection that has been built. If crying can restore some emotional stamina by releasing pent up negative feelings then this can be worthwhile. If crying at the bedside starts to become something you do more often than not, or start to feel as though you must or should cry, then you might need to look at other ways to replenish yourself and see if your team notices any signs of compassion fatigue/burn-out.

What a good palliative care doctor should not do is allow the crying to change the focus from the family or patient to the physician. This is a good built-in boundary check: If the family is more concerned about you then themselves, you might have gone too far. Some palliative care providers have also used their emotions to make a quick connection to the patient or family. In the guise of 'I lost my (insert relationship here) too,' the palliative care provider avoids the natural trust building and jumps right for the emotional connection. This also turns the focus away from the patient and family and to the provider. Building trust quickly is important in palliative care when you sometimes go from "Zero-to-Death and Dying in 5 minutes", but not at the expense of changing the focus away the patient/family unit.

Do I cry at the bedside? No, I don't, but have I felt a surge of sadness come to me? Sure I have and I later addressed those feelings away from the bedside. How I maintain my emotional stamina in this field is by becoming a professional chameleon, or some may say actor. By professionally adapting to the situation in front of you, your emotions can be sincere, but protected from your core by what I term a 'professional mask.' It is much like a two way mirror. Things come through the mask in both directions; I am able to outwardly display genuine compassion and concern to the level needed without compromising my emotional integrity. But when someone turns the lights on the other side of the two-way mirror, the emotions of the meeting can come through that 'mask' as well to affect me. I am sincere in my concern and compassion I display for my patients, I know because at the end of some days, I can tell my wife I don't feel much like talking and she understands. I am drained. A check of my emotional stamina is thinking about how opaque the mask is.

Is this just a guy thing? Maybe. I would like to hear what some of the female palliative care docs think of crying at the bedside. IS there a different social norm? I don't think the issue can be simplified to a male who is not allowed to show emotions or not in touch with his emotions. I am very familiar with my emotions because of palliative care, more so then I would expect without being in this field. The article also mentions the role of hugging. For me as a male physician, I don't go around giving out hugs to everyone I see, but I have pretty good Hug-dar when a family member is coming in for a hug, so I would not deny that. I am actually a big fan of free hugs from family members. So much so that if I know a family to be particularly generous with their hugs, I will make sure to take the stethoscope off my shoulders so they don't get a face full of ear pieces.

Emotions, crying, boundaries, and self-care are important to avoid burnout and depression. Newsweek recently published an article about physicians, depression and suicide risk, cheerfully titled, "When Doctors Kill Themselves." The article highlights an upcoming PBS special, "Doctors with Depression*", that features a palliative care fellow. I am hoping it highlights self-care training in his fellowship. As a fellowship director, I 'stress' self-care activities for fellows, and letting me know if they are pushing themselves too far. In a fellowship, I think it is actually a good sign if you can recognize when this happens, so don't be afraid to identify that in yourself. The work of a palliative care physician is emotionally taxing, which is why we must look out for ourselves and each other.

How do other palliative care doctors (or other disciplines) deal with emotions, depression, burnout? What is the ideal approach to outward display of emotions for our field and disciplines?

Other bloggers have posted about crying physicians here and here and here.

*Sponsored in part by Wyeth, makers of Effexor

5 Responses to “Crying Doctors?
How to Be A Good Palliative Care Doctor”

Not perfect, but His said...
April 24, 2008

Crying or not at the bedside may be somewhat determined by our overall enculturation into gender roles: "big boys don't cry" for example. It also depends upon the level of emotional expression we learned in our family of origin, how close we feel to the family in question, and even our state of physical/mental/emotional/spiritual health at the time (am I tired, stressed, had a fight with a friend, not tuned into my source of renewal at the moment?).

Do I cry at the bedside? Sometimes. I don't cry with every family or even most of the time. But there are certain times, when the circumstances are right, that I think a few tears let the family know my sympathy more than words can say. My usual response is to have my eyes well up with tears or to have no more than a couple of tears start to trickle down my cheeks if I am physically present with a family at the time of death or if the family's "grief level" is high.

I was never an old fan of the model in which physicians were placed on pedestals, untouchable by the masses. While we need to retain appropriate professional boundaries, I think that it is OK to have a few cracks in your mask and to leak once in a while when your bucket is too full. PamH


Drew Rosielle MD said...
April 24, 2008

I'm sure there is some gender differences but I'll tell you I've seen plenty of male docs cry, and I certainly do from time to time. I know there are some people who more or less tear up any time they see someone else crying - I'm not like that and it's actually quite unpredictable what situations is going to provoke that response.

Here is what I teach my trainees: 1) A few tears/misting (like what NPBH mentioned in her comments) is perfectly appropriate (assuming it's consonant with the feeling in the room) and many patients/family members really appreciate genuine displays of emotion (and to be sure you can genuinely display emotion/caring without tearing up).

2) However it is very important to remain in control of your emotions and one should never lose them in front of patients/families. Particularly at times of grief/distress/struggle people look to docs/clinicians as sources of strength, reassurance, trust, hope (hope in the sense of there will be a competent person there giving the sick/dying patient the utmost and best care, that they will know what to do even with things get worse, etc.) and sobbing, becoming grief stricken rarely communicates such confidence. It happens from time to time and I tell my trainees to excuse themselves and to come back when composed (with reinforcements/help).

While illness and grief clearly affect us as clinicians (and the grief we carry around with us is an important topic to address) losing control of your emotions makes the situation about you, and not your patient, their needs, their family's needs, etc. and should be done in private (although not necessarily alone). I tell the story of my only break down since I've been attending which involved telling the mother of a young man that her son was imminently dying, her breaking down sobbing in the hallway - it was gut wrenching. I won't go into details too much for confidentiality reasons but there were elements of her breakdown, things she was saying, that completely cut through my boundaries and brought up my own fears/worries about losing my own son - it was like looking in the mirror at myself if i heard the same news about my son. I lost it, and walked away, and thank god i had a nurse and psychologist with me (this is why i love palliative care) - the nurse stayed with the mother and the psychologist came with me.

The point of all of this is that my losing control of my emotions was all about me - it was my own stuff - my own fear as a parent - and really had nothing to do with the patient or his mother's grief.


Judith Lacey said...
April 24, 2008

Thank you so much for your beautiful and poignant commentary on this article from the NY times. My comment is as a female, palliative care doctor working as a clinician in hospice, outpatient and hospital setting for many years now. I was touched by your article. Truthful and honest. I think our ability to connect with patients and their families is not gender specific. I believe we all have the ability to connect at an emotional level, to cry or show emotion without changing the focus. Perhaps some people are however not in touch with this side of themselves or have never wished to be.
With maturity and self awareness I have learned to be more aware of the impact this has on both myself and my patients. Being there, being human and showing acknowlegement of the emotional pain and distress of those who you are with, I believe can be powerful communication and thereapeutic tool. When it comes naturally in a controlled way with insight and time to reflect, then it can work well for us all. For me it is now increasingly integrated into a natural approach to the patient and family interaction. However, at times a tragedy that is too close to home can bring up quite a bit for me and that is when I feel it is time to step outside, sit with my team or alone and reflect before moving on.The art is to recognise these moments in time.
I personally find crying easy. My kids always laugh as the tears well up as I watch a movie or TV. Even the Simpsons! With patients, I have learned to allow the tears to well up but rarely cry.
I find it a sign of being real and it is Ok.
For my junior doctors, it is common to find myself supporting them and their need to have a good cry (away from the bed side) as a part of the process of learning the art of medicine and acknowledging the sadness of these situations.


Christian Sinclair, MD said...
April 24, 2008

Great comments all so far. Thanks for all of your insights.

I like the bucket metaphor. It is an apt description of letting out emotions from work.

To expound on my post, I alluded a bit to how I usually deal with these intense emotional situations at work, and it really is not through an expressive outward emotional release (eg crying, anger, etc). For me dealing with pent up emotional burdens from work is more of a neutral, distant affect. When I am detached and aloof is when I am burnt-out. It is good for trainees to know that different emotions other than sadness/crying can be a response to work. It took me a while to notice that for me, since I was always on the look out for the expressive emotions as signs of burnout.


Anonymous said...
March 17, 2011

Perhaps doctors are more likely to cry when they are stressed-out and over-worked?