Before I became sick, my life was completely normal. Everything changed when I began feeling a slight irritation in my throat. It seemed like nothing serious, but within 48 hours my body weakened: full-body aches, exhaustion, and a lack of strength I couldn’t ignore. When the Covid diagnosis came, I was in shock—especially because my wife was pregnant at the time. My first thought was to protect her and our baby. I wanted to distance myself so I wouldn’t expose them, not realizing how severe things would become. I tried to stay positive, but my lungs weren’t responding. My oxygen levels dropped quickly, and my vital signs were declining. When the doctors told me they needed to intubate me, fear overwhelmed me. Until then, I had tried to remain calm and trust God, but as they administered the anesthesia, I felt a deep terror. I truly didn’t know if I would ever wake up again. But even while unconscious, I experienced something unexpected: a profound peace. I can only describe it as the presence of God. I felt held and cared for. Somehow, I could sense the prayers of my family and friends—as if they surrounded me. That’s when I understood that God was with me. For my family, those days were heartbreaking. My chances of survival were extremely low. Their only refuge was to seek God daily—to pray, to trust and to find comfort in His presence. That faith was their strength during the darkest hours. Waking up was a miracle. But recovery became another battle. I had to learn to breathe again, to… Read More