The joy of crisis averted

I’m sure Germans have a word for it—they have a word for everything. Witness schadenfreude, the pleasure someone derives from another person’s misfortune. (It’s a little creepy that there’s an actual word for that, with its whiff of sadism.) Or maybe there’s a Millennial acronym for it, like YOLO or FOMO. What is the term for the great long-lasting joy of a small crisis averted?

The other day, Other and I took a long walk along the Riverside bikeway. It was a breezy, springlike day, and there were many of us out there. My thick homemade mask was, as usual, impinging on my pleasure. Fussing with the ear loops, I decided to remove my hearing aids to relieve some of the behind-the-ear congestion. I put them in my pocket, and we continued our walk—now silent, at least for me.

When I got back home and went into my pocket to retrieve my aids, one wasn’t there. Oh shit! I’m quite hard of hearing, as Other will attest. I’m a misery without my aids, constantly asking people to repeat themselves, turning the television up to levels painful for hearing people, and incapable of having a phone conversation, even on my made-for-the-handicapped Clarity landline. So this was a setback, especially in light of the COVID closure of my audiologist’s office. Not to mention the cost of replacing the lost aid, my second most expensive possession--after my apartment.

Without much hope, I put my mask back on and set out to look for it. Lo and behold, a mile out, I found my little gray aid sitting in the middle of the gray pavement of the bikeway. And no one had stepped on it or ridden over it!

When I got back to the apartment, Other and I had drinks to toast my good fortune, and ever since then, I have felt that despite all that is wrong in the world, there is a little speck that is right. I’m a glass-half-empty kind of person, so it is a weird feeling to be so happy. And as human nature would have it, the days-long delight is slowly wearing off. But gee, it was great while it lasted.

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