The Top 10 Things CRNA Educators Are Thankful For - Laughter Infusion
Where Gratitude Meets Gas Flow
As the season of gratitude rolls in (and the caffeine still runs strong), it’s time to reflect on the everyday wins that keep anesthesia educators afloat. From surviving lecture marathons to decoding autocorrect’s best intentions, here’s The Didactic Dose Thanksgiving Top 10 List — where gratitude meets gas flow.
Caffeine in All Its Forms
Coffee, tea, Celsius, or the occasional “if only this were IV” fantasy—whatever it takes to survive eight-hour lecture days and marathon meetings. The true art isn’t pharmacology; it’s timing your caffeine half-life so it peaks just as the slides hit “volatile agents.” Without it, we’d all be desaturated before noon.
Students Who Actually Read the Syllabus
They’re rarer than a fully cooperative mannequin, but when one appears, every educator’s heart skips a beat. They come prepared, ask questions that actually make sense, and save you from repeating due dates for the seventh time. They are proof that academic miracles exist — even if only once per cohort.
Simulation Mannequins That Almost Cooperate
When the mannequin breathes, blinks, and doesn’t randomly code mid-scenario, it’s like a perfect induction. But when it does flatline for no reason, it’s an unplanned debrief on “real-world unpredictability.” Either way, sim lab keeps us humble — and occasionally amused.
Autocorrect, the Unsung Safety Feature
Because “propofol” becoming “profound fail” would be one for the faculty group chat. Autocorrect may not know what an NMDA receptor is, but it keeps our documentation (and dignity) intact. We owe it at least partial credit for preventing countless typos in case notes and PowerPoint slides.
Uninterrupted Lunch Breaks
That rare and precious moment when you don’t get interrupted with an “emergency” call or text from the clinical preceptor or a student mid–PB&J. You actually get to chew, breathe, and remember what normal blood glucose feels like. It’s the kind of bliss that can’t be charted — but it should absolutely be celebrated.
When Zoom Behaves
No frozen screens, no echoing mics, no lag at the exact moment you’re explaining gas laws for the 17th time. Even better—Zoom doesn’t freeze mid-lecture while your face is locked in a questionable expression somewhere between confusion and cardiac arrest. When technology finally cooperates, it feels like divine intervention in digital form. For one shining lecture, everything runs smoothly — and you dare to believe again.
The One Student Who Laughs at Your Anesthesia Puns
They may be outnumbered, but their laughter fuels your teaching soul. When someone actually chuckles at “this joke was gas,” it validates years of groan-worthy wordplay. Never underestimate the morale boost from one brave SRNA with a sense of humor.
Faculty Meetings That End on Time
Short, efficient, and shockingly productive — the unicorn of didactic life. You leave with enough time to update slides, answer a few student emails, and maybe even sip your coffee while it’s still warm. If every meeting wrapped up this smoothly, we’d nominate the chair for sainthood.
The “Just One More” Student
When a student asks to practice one more spinal, airway, or regional block, it’s the educator equivalent of a standing ovation. That drive, curiosity, and dedication to mastery remind us why we do this in the first place. They’re the future of safe anesthesia care — and it shows.
The Future CRNAs Behind Every Question
Every “Is this on the exam?” hides a deeper story — of someone striving, balancing, and dreaming of the day they’ll sign “CRNA” after their name. They are about to change a life someday. They’re the heartbeat of every lecture, sim, and sleepless study session. And for them, we are profoundly, endlessly thankful.
Happy Thanksgiving from The Didactic Dose!
Here’s to caffeine-fueled mornings, engaged students, short meetings, and a community that makes the hard days meaningful. Whether you’re precepting, studying a lecture, or simply surviving — take a deep breath, give thanks, and know you’re part of something extraordinary.

Happy Thanksgiving! Thank you for your dedication to our profession and our future CRNAs.