Last Patient of the Night

“I spread the skin and tissue, revealing the pearly gray surface of the cricothyroid membrane that covers the airway. The rest of the trachea is thick cartilage, which is difficult to penetrate, but the fragile cricothyroid membrane is about the size of the top of a pinky, and I easily punched a hole in it with my scalpel.”

As Doc performs a tracheotomy on the skier from Oklahoma, Gerlacher utilizes specific medical language to add realism to the novel. By using terms like “cricothyroid,” “trachea,” and “cartilage,” Gerlacher demonstrates Doc’s breadth of medical knowledge and ability.

“A heavy dose of antiseptic cleansing fluids mixed with a hint of sweat, fear, frustration, blood and guts so strong you didn’t just smell it, you could taste it. Eau d’ hospital was never gonna make it as a cologne or candle scent, but it was home to me.”

Gerlacher uses olfactory sensory details to craft the setting of the ER. In describing the ER as “home,” Gerlacher further illustrates Doc’s emotional connection to the ER and the people who work within it, whom he later refers to as his “family.”

“My sorceress is gonna cast her spell today, and everything will be fine. Thanks for your help, Doc.”

Jenny truly believes that she’s going to be able to use the money she’s stolen from Dyyavola to escape Houston and find a better life. However, the sorceress fails to cast her spell, and Dyyavola murders Jenny. Despite Jenny’s death, the sorceress remains significant in the text as the symbol of the truth of what happened to Jenny.