Dakota was my brother's nurse the weekend he passed away. He had a very sudden illness with a pretty severe infection in his abdomen. As a nurse myself, I understood medically what was happening to my brother, but ICU is not my specialty, and I was in awe of Dakota's calm presence.

She took excellent care of him all weekend, never seeming hurried or stressed by the amount of medications or care he needed. She was able to explain his care to me in medical terms that I understood, as well as plain language that my parents and other siblings could understand.

We were called in for a family meeting on Sunday morning, and we decided to withdraw care and place my brother on comfort measures. Dakota and the palliative care team did an excellent job at preparing us for what would come as he passed. She never rushed us. She simply told us to let her know when we were all ready for his breathing tube to come out and start comfort care.

We knew he would pass quickly once the tube came out, and we were all able to go in individually to have our last moments with him and say what we needed to say. When they took him off the ventilator, she had us step behind the curtain so we wouldn't be able to see what was happening.

He had been well sedated throughout his hospital stay, but I heard Dakota speak to him as if he were fully awake, telling him, "This is going to make you cough, but your family is so excited to see you without these tubes in." He had been in restraints, and when she removed them, she said, "I know, you've been wanting these off all morning." It was as if she knew him, even though she had only met him at his worst 36 hours before that. She was really taking care of my brother and not just his disease or diagnosis.

Dakota was very supportive, letting us know she would turn off the monitor so we couldn't see his vital signs as they deteriorated. I realized later that this small action allowed me to be more present with my brother and not watch the numbers on the screen.

We are not a very physically affectionate family, but Dakota was encouraging with my stoic family, letting us know we could touch my brother and kiss or hug him as he passed. She said that we could shape this time however we wanted, with TV, music, lights, and window shades up or down. I played the soundtrack to his favorite movie while he passed.

She told us that we could let her know if we thought my brother was uncomfortable, and she had medications drawn up and ready to give. I'm sure many of these things are standard protocol for comfort care patients, but it really felt as though she wouldn't let this be any more difficult than it already was for my family.

She gave us extra time with the palliative care doctor and the chaplain, before coming in with another nurse to pronounce him. She was simple and respectful when she pronounced him deceased, and she told us that we could spend as much time with him as we needed after he was gone.

I stayed with my brother for about 20 more minutes after the rest of my family went back to the private conference room where we had left our coats, just playing out the rest of the album. Dakota was on the phone when I walked off the unit, and the simple note of thanks I left for her didn't seem like nearly enough recognition for the care she gave.

My brother's passing was less than 10 minutes after he was extubated, but it was so calm. I truly believe it was more peaceful because of Dakota. I will never forget what she did for my brother and our family.