Mom, the Call Button, and My Own Bad Example
I’ve been hanging out with Mom at the skilled nursing facility for about four hours. Since I’m on disability due to my awesome health—please read that with the intended sarcasm—I have some time.
While I’ve been here, she has used the call button at least four times. Eventually, I had a conversation with her about it.
My first reaction came from how I behaved when I was in the hospital. I hardly ever used the call button. I thought that if I kept calling, people might respond more slowly.
That was my assumption. No one ever told me that would happen.
In fact, I’ve been told that my reluctance to call can create its own problems because I sometimes wait too long. And I have a pretty good example of that.
During a hospital stay here in Mount Pleasant, I felt my blood sugar dropping. I thought maybe it would bounce back on its own.
So I waited.
And waited.
Eventually, I realized I was in trouble. I pressed the call button and could barely get out the words that my blood sugar was low.
A nurse arrived with a glucose monitor and checked it with a finger stick. If I remember correctly, the reading was somewhere in the high 40s.
Then came the orange juice, graham crackers, peanut butter, cheese—the nurse brought what felt like every available food item.
When I called, the nurses’ desk understood that I needed help urgently. At the time, I took that as evidence that they rarely called unless I was serious.
Looking back, I can’t say that my previous silence had anything to do with their response. What I do know is that I waited until I could barely explain what was happening.
That is not exactly a success story about being a low-maintenance patient.
So, while I may have opinions about Mom pressing her call button, I also need to remember that my approach wasn’t necessarily better. Four calls in four hours doesn’t tell the whole story. What she needed matters more than the number.
There is room to be considerate of busy staff and, when practical, ask for several things at once. There also has to be room to ask for help without feeling like a nuisance.
After writing about advocating for Mom, I suppose I need to apply that same thinking when she advocates for herself.
Apparently, I’m not just spending time with her. I’m getting a refresher course in my own contradictions.
Mom Needed a Bathroom. We Needed a Solution.
My mother is now in a skilled nursing facility. She had a stroke at the end of June 2026 and a second one about three weeks ago. This is her fourth hospital or medical facility in the last three months.
That is a lot of moving, adjusting, and starting over. I get it. I’ve been there.
Part of the longer-term plan involves her wish not to return home once she gets back to where she was before the second stroke. That is a story for another time.
Today’s story is about something much more immediate: Mom needed to use the bathroom.
She arrived at the facility this afternoon, and her evaluations weren’t complete yet. Because physical therapy hadn’t evaluated her, there was uncertainty about how she could safely get to the bathroom—or whether she could get there at all.
I understood the concern. Nobody wanted her to fall or get hurt.
But her need to go wouldn’t wait for an evaluation.
I heard the explanation from three different people, delivered almost the same way each time. What I didn’t hear was a solution.
Mom and I asked for a bedpan.
We were told the facility doesn’t use bedpans.
Okay. So what do we do now?
This was also the point when I started feeling increasingly confident about my decision not to pursue a career in healthcare. As I wrote recently, patience is not one of my strengths. Hearing the same explanation repeatedly while my mother still needed help was putting that to the test.
I asked again: We need to find a solution. She can’t simply not go.
Eventually, someone made the executive decision to find a bedpan. I assume someone dug it out of the nonexistent basement.
Crisis averted.
I appreciate the need for evaluations and safe procedures. I also appreciate the person who finally found a way to help. But there needs to be an answer for what happens while a new resident is waiting for those evaluations.
From our side of the conversation, we had a basic, immediate need and several explanations of why it was complicated.
What would have helped was hearing: “We haven’t assessed her mobility yet. Here is how we can help her safely in the meantime.”
That would have given Mom some reassurance and both of us a plan.
Today, we eventually got there. It just took three explanations and a supposedly unavailable bedpan.
Nirav Tolia’s Son Got to Pitch Mr. Wonderful. What About the Kid Nextdoor?
I came across a post from Erica Wenger of Park Rangers Capital highlighting a story from her Trailblazers interview with Nextdoor CEO Nirav Tolia.
In the clip, Nirav talks about his friendship with Shark Tank’s Kevin O’Leary—Mr. Wonderful—and an experience his 14-year-old son, Deven, had with him.
You can watch the clip here:
Watch Nirav Tolia tell the story on LinkedIn
Apparently, Nirav’s son found himself riding in a car with Mr. Wonderful himself.
And he did exactly what an aspiring young entrepreneur should do.
He pitched him.
Kevin listened, answered his questions, and encouraged him. According to Nirav, his son was thrilled afterward.
That’s awesome.
Seriously.
If I were 14 years old and had a business idea, I’d probably be pretty excited to get one-on-one advice from a Shark too.
But something about this story also struck me as remarkably tone deaf when viewed through the lens of Nextdoor’s stated purpose.
Not Every 14-Year-Old Gets Chicken Nuggets With Mr. Wonderful
Let’s acknowledge something obvious.
Nirav’s son didn’t do anything wrong.
He should take advantage of every opportunity his parents can provide him. That’s what parents do.
But his position in the world gives him access that millions of other kids could never imagine.
Most 14-year-olds aren’t riding around with Kevin O’Leary.
They aren’t having dinner with famous investors.
They don’t have a CEO father who can say, “I’ve become friends with Mr. Wonderful.”
Some kid somewhere has an incredible idea right now and absolutely no idea how to get anyone to listen.
That’s the story I wish Nextdoor would create.
Imagine If Nextdoor Actually Did This
Nextdoor talks constantly about neighbors.
Community.
Connection.
Local knowledge.
Helping people connect with the resources around them.
So here’s an idea that seems almost ridiculously aligned with that mission:
Find the kid who doesn’t have access.
Use the Nextdoor network to find young entrepreneurs in underserved communities with great ideas but no Silicon Valley Rolodex.
Ask neighbors to nominate them.
Maybe it’s a teenager in Chicago designing something in a bedroom.
Maybe it’s a 15-year-old in Detroit working on a business idea after school.
Maybe it’s a kid in Charleston selling something out of a parent’s garage.
Maybe it’s somebody nobody has heard of yet.
Then give that kid 30 minutes with Kevin O’Leary.
Or Mark Cuban.
Or another successful entrepreneur.
Not because of who their parents know.
Because their neighbors discovered them.
That would be interesting.
That would be different.
And that would feel incredibly neighborly.
Nextdoor Has Something Most Venture Capital Firms Don’t
Nextdoor doesn’t need to become a venture-capital firm.
It already possesses something potentially more interesting: a network built around geographic communities.
That creates an opportunity to discover talent from places traditional entrepreneurial networks may overlook.
Think about it:
Nextdoor Young Entrepreneurs.
Neighbors nominate teenagers with business ideas.
Local business owners mentor them.
Nextdoor employees volunteer.
Entrepreneurs evaluate pitches.
Finalists receive mentorship, introductions, or perhaps small grants.
And once a year?
Put one of those kids in a car with Mr. Wonderful.
Chicken nuggets optional.
This Is Where I Think the Story Becomes Tone Deaf
Again, the problem isn’t that Nirav gave his son an extraordinary opportunity.
I’d probably do exactly the same thing.
The disconnect, in my view, is celebrating extraordinary access as an inspirational entrepreneurship story while leading a company whose identity is supposedly built around neighbors helping neighbors.
Listen to Nirav tell the story yourself:
Nirav Tolia discussing his son and Kevin O’Leary
Then imagine if the story ended differently.
Imagine Nirav saying:
“That experience made me realize how many brilliant kids will never have this opportunity. Nextdoor is going to help find them.”
Now you’ve got my attention.
Don’t Just Talk About Opportunity. Create It.
I’ve spent months giving feedback on Nextdoor because I believe the platform has enormous unrealized potential.
This is another example.
Nextdoor keeps talking about the value of its neighborhood network.
Okay.
Use it.
Find talent traditional networks miss.
Find the teenager whose parents don’t know venture capitalists.
Find the kid whose family isn’t hosting Kevin O’Leary for dinner.
Find someone who doesn’t know a Shark.
Then introduce them to one.
Because maybe the next great entrepreneur isn’t sitting in the backseat with Mr. Wonderful.
Maybe they’re sitting three blocks away wondering whether anybody will ever take their idea seriously.
Nextdoor could help find them.
Nirav’s son got an incredible opportunity because of the world he was born into. Imagine using Nextdoor to give an incredible opportunity to a kid who wasn’t.
Now that would be a story worth putting on a podcast.
And I promise I won’t complain if Kevin buys the chicken nuggets.
👉 More of my ongoing Nextdoor commentary at NielFlamm.com/blog
NXDR Is Up. The Petition Is Live. Now Let’s Talk About Who Creates the Value.
I spend plenty of time giving feedback about Nextdoor, so when something moves in a positive direction, I'll acknowledge that too.
NXDR has been climbing.
The screenshot above shows the stock around $2.48, after trading substantially lower earlier in the year. At the time I'm writing this, it's down about one penny today—hardly something I'm going to sound an alarm over. Recent trading has included a notable run from $2.15 on September 9 to the mid-$2.40s this week. StockAnalysis.com
As a shareholder, I like seeing green.
But here's something we haven't talked much about:
What Happens If Neighbor Data Becomes Part of the Valuation Story?
Investors value companies partly on the assets and competitive advantages they can turn into future revenue.
For Nextdoor, one potential advantage isn't sitting in a warehouse.
It's sitting in our conversations.
Years of recommendations, questions, reviews, and hyperlocal knowledge are difficult for a competitor to recreate overnight.
If AI makes that accumulated information more useful—and therefore potentially more commercially valuable—then neighbors shouldn't wait until that business model is fully developed before asking where we fit into it.
That's why the Neighbor Value-Sharing petition is now live.
The idea is simple:
If our information helps create value, neighbors should participate in that value.
Take a moment to read and sign it:
And please share it.
Post it. Send it to another Nextdoor user. Send it to a small-business owner. Let other people decide whether their reviews, recommendations, information, and time deserve compensation when they're used to create commercial value.
I'm a shareholder. I want NXDR to rise.
But I also want the people helping create Nextdoor's unique knowledge base to participate in its success.
Those two ideas don't have to compete.
Maybe sharing value with neighbors could create even more of it.
The Algorithm Thinks I Need a Beach. I Agree.
The algorithm must know what I need: a beach, a little luxury, and a dollar that stretches farther than I do.
Lately, I’ve been looking into leaving the United States and living abroad. The Philippines, which I already love, keeps popping up alongside Vietnam and Thailand—two places I haven’t visited yet.
Now, I’m not looking to become a beach survivalist. I want the nice things: reliable internet, modern conveniences, and, most importantly, good healthcare. Dialysis has to fit into this dream. It’s nonnegotiable, even with an ocean view.
According to my very enthusiastic travel adviser, The Google, Thailand deserves a closer look. Hua Hin has caught my attention with listings for luxury one-bedroom condos around $1,000 a month, complete with security and amenities. My searches also suggest potentially manageable residency options and out-of-pocket dialysis costs. All things I’ll need to verify before packing my flip-flops.
And can ride-share apps handle my transportation? Goodbye car payment, insurance, maintenance, and whatever that noise under the hood is.
I want to spend however much time I have left enjoying my life. Preferably somewhere the ocean is close and my money lasts longer.
To my Vietnamese readers: reach out! Where should I look, and what should I know? The algorithm has opinions. I’d love yours.