Most days are different but we go about our routines on the floor much the same way. We take orders from doctors; finish treatments; tell families bad news; coexist with the terrible and the beautiful daily. We take care of patients, and try to understand their suffering and pain. But somehow it all sits over there in the corner and it doesn't affect us too much - someone needs to do the work. Somehow when I wear the scrub I feel I have special powers. I create a safe barrier and add a little bit of a denial mixed with oblivion. It is a protective insulation that I need, without it I would not be able to accomplish the difficult tasks nursing requires. But we also shield our emotional responses. The intense emotions of death and pain are strong and we don't need to go there with our patients. So, we create another barrier. If you get sucked into the emotional vortex you're no longer able to think rationally. We can feel empathy for the suffering of others but we can't get involved on a personal level. If you allow that to happen you'll quickly lose control of the situation you suppose to oversee. These safeguards we construct are on automatic pilot and every nurse has his own method of coping. Without them it would be hard to survive nursing. This is so true to ER nurses who are usually at the edge. Hospice and oncology nurses know too well not to get emotionally involved. So, we go about our business day in and day out. Pick up our check and that is about it. But then something happens. Because we are all human beings we cannot protect ourselves indefinitely from emotions. We share the same emotions whether we want it or not. The unpredictability of events can affect our own health, and sooner or later make us vulnerable. Something happens to us and our safe barrier is suddenly broken for a moment. There is always a trigger and we all have our own breaking point. Your own emotional vulnerabilities combined with the never-ending hard emotion repetition, end up fragilizing us. Maybe a cancer patient reminded you of your mother; a child or a family member. A smell triggered something deep within you. It is usually something that finds a parallel with our own life and struggle. Suddenly the fear of others become our own fear. What was once safely insulated from you become raw and vivid like it's happening to you. Like you can taste the bitter pills you've been passing. You can feel the pain and It can be quite overwhelming. But if you ever had it, there is nothing to worry about. It doesn't usually last for too long because our barriers quickly regain their hold. If that happened to you before you're not alone and there are reasons to feel proud. People have different levels of sensitivity and they see the world in different ways; but in the end, we are all humans and share the same emotions. It is good to feel the bitter taste occasionally because you establish a true connection to what you do. It helps you to have more empathy to the people you are taking care of. It is a reminder to slow down and pay more attention and show some real empathy rather than a fake one. When you say "this must be very hard to you" it will be deeper and more meaningful. It ultimately helps you to be a better nurse and a better person. A nurse that is not just made up of science and numbers but one able to understand the deep emotional struggles your patients are going through. After many years of nursing people can develop a tough skin, and it becomes easy to become a cynic. But even for the hardest person there is always a soft spot. We all can feel these things. Think that someday you can be sick and needy. And how would you want to be treated? Look at the old and frail and think that someday you'll be there too. This is a very interesting exercise every nurse should pay attention to. What do you think?