"The first thing that came to my mind on that February 24th, when I found out I was positive on Covid 19, was… Oh, how I wish I had a diary now. '

"I know it may sound crazy, but I wanted to write this day in red letters. "The day the crown came into my life, my house, my family."wrote in the acknowledgment the Italian Greta Privitera, journalist on the portal "Politico".

After one year writing for the crown, on February 24, and so was I. part of the statistics, I was one of the patients that the Italian Ministry of Health publishes every day at 18 p.m.

From the symptoms, I only felt pain in my back and legs, so I believed it was an inflammation of the muscles from a little stronger training. If my 72-year-old father, who had a fever the day before, was not tested and positive on the test, it would not have occurred to me to associate the symptoms with the corona.

My nose did not run, I did not have a fever and I did not feel tired. However, and my mother had identical symptoms to me, my brother started coughing, and my two daughters were, fortunately, negative.

Since I was following all the news about the crown, I knew that the mutated British strain has arrived in Italy. Maybe we have exactly that virus? How did we get infected? Where? How can this happen when we are all very responsible and adhere to all epidemiological measures? What will happen to us? Will we die? These were just some of the questions that kept popping up in my head.

I was most afraid of my parents. Will they end up on a respirator? Will they survive? The stories and cases I wrote about before gave me no hope.

I knew the rules, the quarantine, the monitoring of the symptoms, so if the condition worsens, I should call the hospital. But from this distance, I was not really ready for everything that awaited me in the next three weeks.

And the fact that I got sick made me to understand how many holes there are in the Italian health system.

The first wave of the coronavirus broke the Italian health system in Lombardy, where I live. The network of GPs is weak. Instead of focusing on them, the system focuses on hospitals, which for a moment are overflowing with patients infected with covidium.

Last year, 337 doctors died in Italy, most of them general practitioners working without proper protective equipment.

My dad's temperature started to rise and his oxygen saturation started to drop. The doctor told us to monitor the saturation carefully, so if it falls below a certain number, Dad will have to go to the hospital. Because they were alone, my mother measured his saturation with an oximeter he bought on Amazon. Dad just lay there all day, feeling terribly tired and completely losing his appetite. By the way, before that he was completely healthy, had no associated diseases, and the virus destroyed him.

We tried to be reasonable and rational, but the fear did not break. What if the oximeter does not work well? What if we miss a symptom? What if he dies?

"Note if he is breathing hard when lying down", the doctor told us.

But How can my mother and brother and I assess over the phone if he is breathing hard. Well, I'm not a doctor. Not even my mother. Neither does my brother. It was a huge responsibility on our shoulders and it killed us.

In the meantime, my leg and back pain were getting worse. And me I was home alone with my girlfriends, because my husband was on a business trip and he stayed there so as not to infect him too.

I wanted to rest, to sleep, but I could not. We had to follow them children's online classes, I had to prepare lunch and answer a thousand questions and requests from two girls who were very bored at home. I did everything with terrible effort and terrible headache.

I called my parents every two hours. On the fifth day, my mother also got a fever. Dad's condition was deteriorating. We called the doctor, but he did not answer. When he called us, he told us that there was too much work and that there were dozens of other patients like my father.

That was all true, but what else could we do?

We felt horrible, lonely, as if we were all abandoned. I remember that I often cried, although I tried not to do it in front of the children, because they would immediately ask "Mom, did Grandpa die?"

Saturation my father was approaching her for oxygen critical figure. I did not know what to do. And then I remembered to call the doctor I interviewed, who worked in the coronary department at one of the largest hospitals in Milan.

I was ashamed which bothered him, but he he listened to me and gave me advice on what to do. His interest in my family moved me deeply.

He called me every day to hear how we were and was actually one of the heroes who helped families like mine. He told me to take my father to the hospital or ask the doctor to send an ambulance to take a picture of his lungs.

Dad had a fever for 13 days, his saturation was bad and I called the doctor and asked him to send an ambulance after him. The doctor protested, saying it was not necessary, but I did not give up. When they arrived and examined him, there was no more dilemma. He had to go to the hospital immediately.

But what about people who do not know any doctor, like the one I interviewed some time ago? Who will be their savior?

I was at home crying. I was afraid that what I had been writing for months would happen to my father. I knew I might never see him again.

They diagnosed him at the hospital inflammation of both lungs. He was on oxygen and recovered in seven days. The doctor told him that he was lucky to be sick now, not for three weeks, when they expect hospitals to be full again.

My mother also started coughing, but was still being treated at home.

I was officially negative two weeks later, but my life will not change much. Italy is preparing for another lockdown. The number of infected is again growing dangerously in Lombardy.

When I see countries like America, Great Britain, Israel that vaccinated their people quickly and efficiently, I can not help but feel disappointed…

Why is Italy not doing the same?

When will all this end?

And finally, why do we not take better care of the sick and leave them at home in agony to make their own decisions about their health? Do we all have to be doctors?

Why is there no one to take proper care of us?

Don't we deserve it?

Why, why, why?