Q: I'm a nurse in a cancer clinic. A lot of people wouldn't like my job, but being a nurse is all I've ever wanted to be. Things only got better when I went to work in an enlightened clinic in which our director allowed the staff to assist grieving families as well as the patients. I knew I had found my calling.

Life as I knew it ended three months ago. When my son drove cross-country with a friend, a drunk driver lost control of his car and hit the friend's car, killing my son.

I fell apart. Although I tried to come back to work within two weeks, my manager sent me home, saying I wasn't ready. Because I was out of paid leave and needed money, I had to come back to work a week later.

My manager is trying to work with me and has put me at the front desk. He hasn't cut my nursing pay. But I'm like a robot with patients and can't focus or remember even simple instructions. I've tried to get back on track by giving myself the one-day-at-a-time advice I used to give my patients and families. It doesn't seem to work. I used to give patients' families books to read, and I've looked in those books and they mean nothing to me. I know you can't help me with the loss of my son. But I feel like I've lost my profession as well. Can you help me figure out how to get back into work?

A: When death smacks a hole in your life, you can expect to fall apart. While your experience as a nursing professional who comforts others gives you insight, nothing can prepare you for a child's death.

I've been in your shoes. I ran a crisis intervention clinic and additionally trained counselors at other clinics. Then my fiance and son died of a plane crash and inoperable heart disease and I knew I didn't know enough. Here's what I learned that may help you.

Find someone who can be your support. When you comforted others, you reached out an arm to steady them. Death sends you into a roller coaster of emotions. You can't both steady yourself and grieve as deeply as you need to get through the pain.

Give yourself time. You can't expect to get back to normal or to be able to accomplish what you used to. Death breaks normal into pieces. When you think, "I should be able to do this because I used to be able to do it," you heap daily defeat experiences on top of your grief. Stop it. Eventually, you create a new normal, able to understand things you hadn't before comprehended.

Your manager took the right action when he initially sent you home and later offered you a position out of the line of fire. As you and he evaluate your work during the next several weeks, you may decide to take a leave of absence and find a temporary job in retail sales or another field in which you can surround yourself with people who won't turn to you with the same level of need. Alternatively, if you stop holding yourself to a higher-than-achievable standard, you may find your current job situation smoothing out.

Although you eventually get through the worst of grief, you can't hold yourself to a timetable. Further, while it may seem pitiful consolation, what you now endure makes you stronger and someone who can more powerfully assist dying patients and grieving families. When this happens, you create a testament to your son and regain your profession.