The Kosovo journalist who beat David-19 is confessed: I had moments when I felt that I was losing the battle

The journalist, Jehona Gitia, has decided to confess her entire health struggle with COVID-19.

She was infected after several months of reporting every day about the situation the country and the globe were facing.

We bring you her full account:

The five letters I had mentioned hundreds of thousands of times during the five months of reporting, which I had spoken about only badly, had decided to take revenge. When I was less endangered, the organism began to struggle with something unusual - at least until then.

The truthfulness that my body was facing something undesirable was given by the Institute of Health.

It was the second Saturday in August, when I desperately submitted to the announcement that I was affected, among the 190 others to whom the day had begun. A statistic about others that positive cases measured by the scales of a little or a lot. The truth was that the days when I started this uneven war, only the word "very" prevailed. Not making myself evil in front of my husband's children, all three negatives, I decided that the first setbacks caused by the stranger, who was finding mazes to hide in my body, to call myself rebellious to avoid changing the virus.

As the lungs were handed over to the disease, the rest of the interior, assisted by the bag, was trying to escape the enemy. But he couldn't.

With the day-to-day situation getting worse, my stubbornness also softened so as not to enter the infection again, this time as a patient.

The morning of August 20, it dawned under the neon lights in Room No. Three in Clinical Department. The accompanying points that were attacking the enemy's entire medical artillery, but the hopeful sounds that issued the few devices in the space that I shared with a patient showed how valuable life was, how awesome we are when we were attacked, even thousands and thousands of times smaller than we were.

The following days did not bring about the improvement I expected. On the contrary, things got worse than that, for the first time, I began to think of the worst. On one of the evenings, when the nurse tried to keep me up, I had almost lost hope of getting out. It was that moment when you feel helpless and ruined to the core. Everything was reduced to one breath. The achievements, schooling, work, commitment, careers, were no longer important.

That was the worst night of some of those people I spent in that white house.

The two weeks after which most proclaimed victory in the face of evil, he found me lying in the Infectia, surrounded by a devoted staff for whom I had become a study following the appearance of an allergic reaction that was unprecedented in other patients.

Despite the unpleasant state of life, after confirming that I was no longer a photographer of that room, doctors agreed that the treatment would continue in the apartment, which was more like a drug store, the walls of which had never been marked with a scent of medicine - syringes, ampulas, infusion bags, etc.

Even during that time, the interest of friends and relatives in my health did not cease. Most of them were part of me, this bad dream that I had to see. They did not separate from me through virtual communication, just as my mate and children did by keeping close to me physically.

It took time for me to take the courage to mock the enemy, since I was not sure that he would not return to return for his crackdown on my organization.

Today, strengthened and surrounded by family and friends, I look down on that wrongdoer like the barrel of a soldier forced to shoot innocents.

He will be my enemy, even though he lives with me. I will continue to challenge him in the form I did since March. Until the day comes when none of us will mention that evil name, as I did in this confession!