I love to walk around my neighborhood at night, just about the time the sun sets. My neighbors have their lights on and their curtains open. A sneak peek into how others live gives me a cheap thrill; the house on the corner cooking dinner, another with tacky wallpaper and the news on. I imagine myself in their homes and their lives and I make it a little game. What would I be doing in that house? What if?
The prospect of blogging, not only my life but a new business, is as thrilling as it is terrifying. I am now the subject in the lit window for you to see, a voluntary zoo animal. I hope I remembered to wash my hair and wear mascara.
So, how did I get here? Seems like a simple enough question, but I cannot pinpoint here to one place.
Was it this conversation that sparked interest in my doctorate project on opioid-free anesthesia?
Colleague: yeah I asked John* to do a request case for me and gave him my block and TIVA recipe, but he said it was “voodoo anesthesia”
Me: you mean evidenced-based?
(Me years later with my doctorate project, What are the barriers to opioid-free anesthesia by Arizona CRNAs?)
*name changed
Or was it an incidental finding of said doctorate project AND its National extension:
Female CRNAs perceive themselves to be less competent than their male counterparts in regards to performing peripheral nerve blocks.
That last sentence feels like a gut punch. Do I feel less competent? Yes (sad face). Am I? Absolutely not!
That’s where EmpowHER Anesthesia was born. The more I confronted my own deepest fears of imposter syndrome, the more I realized I am likely not alone. What is it about our gender that makes our self-perception less when perception does not translate to our skill level? In fact, female providers have better outcomes (as reported in many peer- reviewed studies).
What would happen if I extended my text-a-friend circle to include other female Nurse Anesthesiologists (<—yes, I said it without the irony of imposter syndrome!)? What would happen if women lift other women up? In evidence, in practice, and in a community that women can thrive in.
Welcome my new friends. Knock on the door of this house, I’ll put the coffee on.
Love,
Morgan