I had a patient die, and it's not the first time, and it wasn't my fault. I spent a lot of time with the patient's family throughout the hospitalization, and they kept thanking me and telling me they appreciated everything I did. I didn't really do all that much, really.
And I feel a little guilty, to be honest, that the family was so grateful. Be angry. Yell at me. Tell me I'm a son of a bitch. Hate me.
I'm not ashamed to say that I'm good at what I do, and when it comes to terminal patients, I do a damn good job. But I feel a little better when the family hates me or resents me, because it means that they don't blame the patient. Because I know what it's like to be angry at someone for being sick, and I'd much rather families hate me than sour their memories of a loved one.