My default was always active listening. It took me a while to develop real skill at it, then longer for it to no longer be something I had to turn on.

There’s exceptions of course, but most people that are expressing emotion publicly do just want a chance to vent and be heard, no matter what that emotion is. Anger, grief, confusion, fear, whatever it is, just having someone gently say “hey, I can see you’re having a rough patch, can I help?” Is all it takes usually.

Sometimes, you might have to go further, draw out the personbehind the emotion. Sometimes, they don’t want to be bothered at all, and just couldn’t find somewhere private before they broke. In that case, you’d be surprised how often they still pull themselves together for someone offering real support, and you can then guide them somewhere they can break down alone, if that’s what they really want.

But mostly, just being present, really listening and giving just enough feedback that they know you’re paying attention instead of just being a fencepost, it helps.

But tears? That’s easy. If they’re giving you those tears, you accept them as the gift they are. Especially if someone breaks through the usual barriers with strangers and reaches for physical comfort, you just give them that shoulder and make soft noises while supporting them. If they aren’t in contact, extend a hand, just a hand, to where they can reach it if they want to, but not so far it becomes insistent. Then you just listen and let their tears wash away enough of the raw emotion until they can talk.

At some point, most people wind down a little and start apologizing. When you give them a genuine smile and say something akin to “hey, it’s okay, we all have to look out for each other”, or “it’s okay, we’re in hospital, it’s gotta come out sometime; I’m just glad I was here to listen”. If that’s a genuine thing, if you mean a sentiment like that, it’s like aloe on a sunburn. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it takes the edge off long enough to regather and cope just a little while longer.

I’ve been on both sides of it. Hell, three different sides: patient, family member, and caregiver. There’s no single,perfect path through it, but someone even trying to help and fucking up is still a great balm

I not an expert in this, but I work with patients who often need help calming down. In the beginning I tried to say a lot of things, offering a different perspective or trying to fix a problem. But now I just try to be there and listen. And not try to fill the silence. Sometimes a calming hand on the shoulder helps, sometimes not. Affirm the feeling and don’t argue facts. Last week a patient was upset because she was hallucinating an injured angry dog outside. Instead of telling her she’s wrong, I can only say that I myself cannot see a dog, but it sounds scary, and that she’s safe here. Another patient said she wanted to die. I think I just said “is that how you feel?” and so but the important part is to be there, just being, without rushing, letting someone feel seen and heard.

Haldol

I’m not an expert but have worked in these kinds of environments on and off over the years.

It’s hard to offer broad advice as every encounter is different. Your workplace might offer training though to give you some tools, which will likely also teach you the things not to say (eg promising a result, stoking the fire, preaching, etc).

Calming someone down isn’t always the goal either, sometimes people just need to process difficult information or grieve for the loss of a loved one. All you can do in this situation is to offer a safe place to do that, and maybe a sympathetic ear if they need to talk, and perhaps to validate their feelings. Otherwise just being present is often enough, as is knowing when to give someone space.

I don’t think there’s a single answer here.

In most human interactions you start with really truly trying to listen and observe and understand.

Often when someone is scared or grieving you don’t need to solve their problems or concerns, you just need to enable them to express their feelings. Likely everyone they’ve interacted with during their journey has been too busy or hasn’t cared enough to listen to them.

When I’m absolutely miserable the simple act of crying is an emotional release and I invariably feel better after. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy suggests that it’s the resistance to emotions that causes us harm - if you’ve spent the last several weeks trying not to worry about an operation it creates enormous tension - sometimes just being able to tell someone what you’re worried about is a tremendous relief.

If someone shares medical concerns like “what if x happens during the operation” I wouldn’t engage with that and simply say “that’s probably a good question for the surgeon when he visits, but I’m sure he has a plan to manage that risk”.

I’d also suggest asking the doctor for something to help them relax.

How about some Midazolam?