With an almost angelic air, nurse Jennifer Youngblood spoke warmly to the elderly man, as nearly all nurses do here with the coma victims. We could see how attached Youngblood, Dr. Vespa and the rest of the medical staff were to their patients. Each day for them can bring small victories, such as the sudden movement of a finger, or crushing defeats, such as a drop on the Glasgow scale during an overnight shift.

We split our time between the 7 West ICU and the 6 East ICU one floor below, where another half dozen patients were fighting for their lives. At the end of the row, we would find a patient whose story would move us in ways we could not have imagined when we arrived there. A young man in his 20's, he had been rushed in days before with a gunshot wound to the head. We had watched Dr. Vespa look over his brain scans with other doctors, reviewing the injuries and giving a grim assessment of the chances for survival. Today, Vespa's analysis had sadly proven to be right, since hours before our arrival, it was determined the young man had slipped away and been declared brain dead.

We watched as nurse Debbie Ceasar checked the patient's vital signs. Although he had been declared brain dead, he was on a ventilator while doctors checked his suitability as an organ donor.

Knowing this patient was clinically dead, it was unnerving to see him "breathing." We watched the wooden cross that hung from a cord on his chest rise up and down with each breath. Ceasar remained busy, caring for her patient almost as though he were still alive. She had to constantly monitor his blood pressure and oxygenation levels to make sure the other organs remained protected - even though his brain had stopped working.

Sitting at dinner later that night, it was hard for all of us to comprehend what we had seen. It troubled us to watch patients in the ICU clinging to life who days before were probably walking around, heading to work, or spending time with loved ones. It humbled us that their families would allow us to tell their stories to try to educate others. We were in awe of the doctors and nurses who we watched care for these patients with such compassion. And we knew we would never forget the hours we spent in the room with the young man whose brain death reminded us so poignantly of the fragility of both life and death.