I Can't Wait to See This... Which Is Exactly What Worries Me

Okay...

I REALLY want to see this.

The trailer absolutely did its job. I'm interested, I'm intrigued, and I'm already wondering when I can watch the whole thing.

But I have two concerns.

First:

Did I miss any of the good parts?

We've all watched fantastic trailers, only to discover later that someone basically took the best four minutes of the movie, chopped them into a two-minute trailer, and saved us the trouble of watching the rest.

I'm hoping that's NOT what happened here.

My second concern?

Please don't go the Backrooms route.

Some of the producers involved here are also connected with Backrooms, so I'm hoping this one gives me a very different experience.

For now, though, the trailer has me.

I'm absolutely planning to watch this one.

Hopefully, when it's over, I'll be saying:

“That trailer didn't even show us the best parts.”

And not:

“Well... I guess I already saw the movie.”

🎬 Watch the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mnTITqqiT0

I'll definitely have more to say after I see it.

Some Kind of Heaven: I Came for The Villages, I Got The Real World

The Villages comes up surprisingly often during our twice-weekly fraternity Zooms.

Golf carts. Senior spring break. The gates. Fictional local history. And, of course...

THE LOOFAHS.

So when the algorithm suggested the 2020 documentary Some Heaven, I figured I'd finally learn what the hell is actually going on inside this massive Florida retirement community.

I didn't.

Instead, I basically got MTV's The Real World with golf carts.

The documentary follows several people dealing with relationships, loneliness, addiction, money, loss, and finding meaning later in life. The Villages is there, but it's more of a backdrop than the main character.

That's not necessarily bad—it just wasn't the documentary I expected.

So, is Some Kind of Heaven worth 81 minutes of your time?

And more importantly...

WHAT ABOUT THE LOOFAHS?

🎬 Watch my full review at NielFlamm.com/videos/moviereviews

Why I Realized I Wasn’t Cut Out for Healthcare

When I started college, I thought I wanted to be a physician.

I was a student at the Sophie B. Davis biomedical program at the City College of New York, part of the City University of New York system, in historic Harlem. It was an accelerated path: five years followed by two years of medical school, instead of the traditional four plus four.

That was the plan. My reasons for pursuing it deserve honesty.

I didn’t want to become a doctor because I felt called to help people. I wasn’t driven to make an impact or cure a disease. I wanted to be wealthy and live comfortably.

That may sound shallow. Looking back, I think it was. But those were my motivations, and pretending otherwise would make this a different story.

There is nothing wrong with wanting financial security. The problem was choosing a profession without thinking enough about whether I wanted to do the actual work.

Recently, watching my mother receive care reinforced how poorly that career would have fit me.

Seeing the Work Up Close

My mother has had two strokes in about two months. She has been in the emergency room, in the ICU, and is now back in a physical rehabilitation unit.

Through all of it, I have watched healthcare workers at every level provide care, comfort, and concern for her.

I think of them as heroes. That word comes from watching their work: attending to someone who needs help, responding to uncertainty, and bringing patience to situations that can be difficult for both patients and families.

I am grateful.

As someone who once planned to enter their profession, I am also very clear: I am not equipped to do what they do.

Knowing What I Couldn’t Give

It isn’t the sight of blood, bodily fluids, or body parts that would get to me. Although I will admit that vomit is something I find disgusting.

What I would struggle with is sustaining focus while providing care. The patience. The compassion. The ability to keep responding thoughtfully when someone needs more and is already tired.

I care about my mother deeply. But caring about someone and being prepared to care for patients throughout a demanding shift require different things.

I don’t believe I have the patience or the capacity to provide that kind of care consistently. That is uncomfortable to admit, especially while watching people give it to someone who means so much to me. I also need to be honest about that.

Patients deserve care from people who can meet those demands. A desire for a comfortable lifestyle would not have prepared me for them.

The Lifestyle I Hadn’t Thought Through

Then there are the hours.

The long shifts, particularly during residency, would have been another major challenge for me. When I think about the time and responsibility involved, the compensation during training hardly resembles the comfortable life I had imagined.

I had focused on the possible financial rewards of becoming a physician without fully considering the years of demanding work required—or whether the daily work would suit me even after training.

My picture of the profession was incomplete.

Watching my mother’s care has made the part I overlooked much harder to miss.

Gratitude and a Clearer Understanding

I am not suggesting that healthcare workers must be selfless every minute or that they shouldn’t want good pay and comfortable lives. They deserve both. I can appreciate their dedication while recognizing how much the work asks of them.

What I understand now is that my reasons for wanting to become a physician would not have been enough.

There is value in recognizing that a profession does not fit you, even one you once imagined as your future. I can respect this work deeply and acknowledge that I would have struggled to do it well.

To everyone who has cared for my mother—in the emergency room, the ICU, and rehabilitation—thank you for the care, comfort, and concern you have shown her.

Years ago, I imagined what being a physician might give me. Watching you, I see much more clearly what the work would have required of me.

Great News From the Retina Doctor: It’s Attached!

After everything my left eye has put me through over the past several months, today I finally got to hear two words I’ve been waiting for:

RETINA ATTACHED.

I went back to Retina Consultants of South Carolina earlier today for another follow-up, and that was the big news.

After the retinal detachment, surgery, silicone oil, silicone oil removal, the mysterious horizon, the bubble, the dot, the eclipse, and all the other visual special effects my eye decided to produce, my retina is attached.

I’ll take boring, attached, and functioning any day.

👁️ Not Completely Drama-Free

That doesn’t mean the eye has decided to behave perfectly.

I still have a little eye pain occasionally, and I’m seeing a few floaters. Considering what I’ve experienced recently, though, a couple of floaters feel considerably less exciting than having what looked like a solar eclipse floating around inside my eyeball.

And for once, less exciting is exactly what I want.

💉 And Then There Was the Question of a Shot...

Another issue being evaluated today: macular degeneration.

Given everything else that has happened with this eye, I wasn’t exactly looking to add another procedure to my medical résumé.

The good news?

I DON’T NEED A SHOT.

At least...

Currently.

That last word is doing some heavy lifting.

For now, there’s no injection. Instead, they’ll keep watching things, and I’ll be evaluated again in three weeks.

So I’m not declaring victory and running through the streets waving a flag just yet.

But today was unquestionably a good appointment.

Three Weeks Until the Next Chapter

Today’s eye scorecard:

Retina: ATTACHED! 🎉
Eye pain: Occasional.
Floaters: A few.
Macular degeneration: Being monitored.
Shot: Not needed currently. 💉🚫
Next evaluation: Three weeks.

After months of updates that included phrases like detached retina, silicone oil, surgery, bubble, horizon, eclipse and possible injections, I'll happily write an update where the biggest headline is:

MY RETINA IS ATTACHED.

Three weeks from now, we check again.

Until then, I’m going to enjoy some genuinely good news.

Sometimes progress isn’t dramatic. Sometimes progress is simply hearing your doctor say that something is exactly where it’s supposed to be.

And today, that’s more than enough.

Day 93: Nextdoor Turned the Comments Off Again. So Much for Progress.

Well, that didn't last long.

A few days ago, I actually did something that might surprise people who only see my Nextdoor posts occasionally:

I applauded Nextdoor.

I had previously provided feedback about Nextdoor disabling comments on some of its LinkedIn posts. Then I noticed newer posts where commenting was available again.

I said that was progress.

I said companies should be willing to change course.

I even wrote:

“Nice move, Nextdoor. Keep going.”

Apparently, I should have added:

“…but please don't put it in reverse.”

Because here we are.

It's Day 93 of my ongoing Nextdoor case study, and they've once again turned off comments on a Nextdoor LinkedIn post.

And the post they chose makes this particularly interesting.

The Publix Post Has Comments Turned Off

Nextdoor's recent LinkedIn post celebrates Publix Super Markets ranking No. 4 on PEOPLE's 100 Companies That Care list.

Nextdoor's connection to the story is that a Publix associate used the Nextdoor app while helping neighbors before Hurricane Milton. Nextdoor's post says this demonstrates what can happen when a network is built around real local neighborhoods. LinkedIn

I've already written about why I think there's another, more interesting story here:

Nextdoor didn't make the Top 100.

But now there's another layer.

Look at the screenshot.

The Comment button is grayed out, and LinkedIn states:

“Comments have been turned off on this post.”

LinkedIn lets Page administrators turn comments on or off, even after a post has been published. LinkedIn

So once again, Nextdoor is publishing something publicly on a social network while choosing not to allow the public to respond beneath that particular post.

Wait… Weren't We Moving Forward?

That's what makes this frustrating.

I had just praised Nextdoor for what seemed like a change in direction.

Comments had been disabled.

Then newer posts allowed comments.

I noticed.

And instead of finding another reason to complain, I did exactly what I think someone providing fair feedback should do:

I acknowledged the improvement.

That's important.

If I'm going to point out things I believe Nextdoor gets wrong, then I should be equally willing to acknowledge when I think it gets something right.

I did.

Now we're apparently going backward again.

This Is Exactly Why Communication Matters

Nextdoor describes itself as “the essential neighborhood network” and says it connects neighbors to conversations that matter locally. LinkedIn

Conversation.

That's the interesting word.

Because conversation generally requires more than one participant.

Posting a corporate message and disabling responses isn't really a conversation.

It's a broadcast.

Broadcasting information isn't inherently wrong. Companies do it every day.

But for a company whose entire product is built around people talking to one another, repeatedly switching comments on and off creates an odd contradiction.

A social network should probably be social.

And Why This Post?

That's the question I'm especially curious about.

Why disable comments on this post?

I don't know.

Maybe it was intentional.

Maybe there's a communications strategy behind it.

Maybe Nextdoor anticipated comments it didn't want.

Maybe it has absolutely nothing to do with criticism.

I don't have access to Nextdoor's internal decision-making, so I won't invent a motive.

But I can certainly observe the result:

Nextdoor published a post celebrating another company's recognition for caring about people and communities—and didn't allow people to comment on it.

That's… interesting.

Especially after I realized I had initially been missing the real story.

I Was Missing the Real Story

At first, my reaction to the Publix post was basically:

Nextdoor is playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.

A Publix employee did something wonderful.

The employee happened to use Nextdoor.

Publix made PEOPLE's list.

Nextdoor then highlighted its connection to the story.

I thought that was the story.

It wasn't.

The more interesting question was:

Why wasn't Nextdoor itself on the list?

Technology companies including Salesforce, NVIDIA, Intuit, Adobe, ServiceNow and Hewlett Packard Enterprise made the 2026 Companies That Care list.

These aren't organizations that decided they had to choose between corporate responsibility and running successful businesses.

They demonstrate that companies can pursue their missions, invest in employees and communities, make money, and create value for shareholders.

That's the standard I want Nextdoor to pursue.

Don't borrow someone else's spotlight.

Earn your own.

And Comments Are Part of the Bigger Picture

This isn't really about one LinkedIn button.

It's about something I've been discussing throughout this case study:

Does Nextdoor's behavior match Nextdoor's message?

Nextdoor talks about connection.

Community.

Trust.

Neighbors.

Conversation.

Local businesses.

Good neighbors.

But I've also provided feedback about what I see as problems with its volunteer moderator model, its approach to monetizing small businesses, communication and transparency, shareholder value, and the platform's long-running “Karen” reputation.

And now we're back to comments being disabled on a corporate LinkedIn post.

Again.

None of these things alone define Nextdoor.

But collectively they raise a question I've asked repeatedly:

Does the experience match the mission, vision and values?

Day 93—and the Other Question Still Hasn't Been Answered

And yes, there's another reason today is Day 93.

I'm still waiting for the detailed data referenced in Nextdoor's Home Insurance Insights research.

I've also requested the detailed data referenced in its Financial Advising and Investing research.

I'm not asking for the public blog summaries.

I'm asking for the detailed data Nextdoor told readers they could request.

It's been 93 days.

I've emailed.

I've clarified the request.

I've offered phone.

Video conference.

Virtual coffee.

A simple answer would still resolve it:

Yes, we can provide it.

No, we can't provide it.

It's restricted.

Here are the requirements.

Someone else handles it.

Those are answers.

Silence isn't.

Hearing vs. Listening—Again

Maybe this is why I keep returning to my Learning & Development background.

There is a difference between hearing feedback and listening to feedback.

Listening doesn't mean agreeing.

It doesn't mean giving me what I want.

It doesn't mean leaving every LinkedIn comment section open forever.

And it certainly doesn't mean a company has to implement every suggestion somebody posts online.

Listening means considering the information, making a decision, and communicating.

That's why I was willing to applaud Nextdoor when comments came back.

I thought perhaps the company had reconsidered.

Maybe it had.

Now comments are off again.

So I'll provide feedback about that too.

Nextdoor, Pick a Direction

If comments are going to be open, open them.

Moderate them.

Respond when appropriate.

Ignore ridiculous comments when appropriate.

Let people disagree.

That's what social networks do.

If comments are going to be disabled, that's Nextdoor's decision too.

But then let's acknowledge the irony of the neighborhood conversation company limiting conversation on its own corporate social media.

You can't build a brand around community dialogue and then appear uncomfortable when the dialogue isn't completely controlled.

Moderating conversation and preventing conversation are two very different things.

I applauded Nextdoor when I thought it was moving forward.

Today, I'm pointing out that it appears to have taken a step backward.

That's not negativity.

That's consistency.

When I see improvement, I'll acknowledge it.

When I see something I think deserves feedback, I'll provide it.

And when Nextdoor finally answers my 93-day-old research request?

I'll acknowledge that too.

Until then:

Day 93.

The detailed data still hasn't arrived.

And apparently, the comments haven't either.

Follow the continuing case study at NielFlamm.com/blog.