Hi.
Zdravo.
Thank you.
Hvala.
[Jennifer Brea is sound-sensitive. The live audience was asked to applaud ASL-style, in silence.]
[Dženifer je osetljiva na zvuk. Publici je rečeno da aplaudira na znakovnom jeziku, u tišini.]
So, five years ago, this was me. I was a PhD student at Harvard, and I loved to travel. I had just gotten engaged to marry the love of my life. I was 28, and like so many of us when we are in good health, I felt like I was invincible.
Dakle, ovo sam ja pre pet godina. Bila sam doktorant na Harvardu i volela sam da putujem. Tek sam se verila za ljubav svog života. Imala sam 28 godina i, kao i mnogi od nas kada su zdravi, osećala sam se nepobedivo.
Then one day I had a fever of 104.7 degrees. I probably should have gone to the doctor, but I'd never really been sick in my life, and I knew that usually, if you have a virus, you stay home and you make some chicken soup, and in a few days, everything will be fine. But this time it wasn't fine. After the fever broke, for three weeks I was so dizzy, I couldn't leave my house. I would walk straight into door frames. I had to hug the walls just to make it to the bathroom. That spring I got infection after infection, and every time I went to the doctor, he said there was absolutely nothing wrong. He had his laboratory tests, which always came back normal. All I had were my symptoms, which I could describe, but no one else can see. I know it sounds silly, but you have to find a way to explain things like this to yourself, and so I thought maybe I was just aging. Maybe this is what it's like to be on the other side of 25.
Onda sam jednog dana dobila temperaturu preko 40 stepeni. Verovatno je trebalo da odem kod doktora, ali nikada ranije nisam bila bolesna, i znala sam da, kad dobijete virus, treba da ostanete kod kuće, skuvate pileću supu i za par dana će sve biti u redu. Međutim, ovog puta nije bilo u redu. Kad je groznica prestala, naredne tri nedelje zbog vrtoglavice nisam mogla da izađem iz kuće. Udarala sam u okvire od vrata. Morala sam da se pridržavam za zid da bih stigla do kupatila. Tog proleća sam dobijala infekciju za infekcijom, a svaki put kada bih otišla kod doktora rekao bi mi da je sve u redu. Uradio je laboratorijske testove, čiji bi se nalazi uvek vratili kao normalni. Jedino što sam imala bili su simptomi koje sam mogla da opišem, ali koje niko drugi nije mogao da vidi. Znam da zvuči smešno, ali morate da potražite način da ovakve stvari objasnite sebi, pa sam mislila da možda samo starim. Možda ovako izgleda biti stariji od 25.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
Then the neurological symptoms started. Sometimes I would find that I couldn't draw the right side of a circle. Other times I wouldn't be able to speak or move at all. I saw every kind of specialist: infectious disease doctors, dermatologists, endocrinologists, cardiologists. I even saw a psychiatrist. My psychiatrist said, "It's clear you're really sick, but not with anything psychiatric. I hope they can find out what's wrong with you."
Onda su počeli neurološki simptomi. Ponekad ne bih mogla da nacrtam desnu stranu kruga. Drugom prilikom nisam mogla da pričam ni da se krećem. Bila sam kod svih specijalista, doktora za zarazne bolesti, dermatologa, endokrinologa, kardiologa. Bila sam čak i kod psihijatra. Rekao mi je: „Očigledno je da ste veoma bolesni, ali vaš problem nije psihički. Nadam se da će otkriti šta nije u redu.“
The next day, my neurologist diagnosed me with conversion disorder. He told me that everything -- the fevers, the sore throats, the sinus infection, all of the gastrointestinal, neurological and cardiac symptoms -- were being caused by some distant emotional trauma that I could not remember. The symptoms were real, he said, but they had no biological cause.
Sutradan mi je neurolog dijagnostikovao konverzivni poremećaj. Rekao mi je da sve simptome - temperaturu, bol u grlu, sinusnu infekciju, sve stomačne, neurološke i srčane simptome izaziva neka daleka emocionalna trauma koje se ne sećam. Ti simptomi su pravi, rekao je, ali nemaju biološki uzrok.
I was training to be a social scientist. I had studied statistics, probability theory, mathematical modeling, experimental design. I felt like I couldn't just reject my neurologist's diagnosis. It didn't feel true, but I knew from my training that the truth is often counterintuitive, so easily obscured by what we want to believe. So I had to consider the possibility that he was right.
Studirala sam da postanem sociolog koji se bavi naukom. Učila sam statistiku, teoriju verovatnoće matematičko modeliranje, dizajn eksperimenata. Nisam mogla tek tako da odbacim dijagnozu neurologa. Nije se činilo istinitim, ali su me studije naučile da je istina često nelogična, tako lako zamračena onim u šta želimo da verujemo. Stoga sam morala da razmotrim mogućnost da je u pravu.
That day, I ran a small experiment. I walked back the two miles from my neurologist's office to my house, my legs wrapped in this strange, almost electric kind of pain. I meditated on that pain, contemplating how my mind could have possibly generated all this. As soon as I walked through the door, I collapsed. My brain and my spinal cord were burning. My neck was so stiff I couldn't touch my chin to my chest, and the slightest sound -- the rustling of the sheets, my husband walking barefoot in the next room -- could cause excruciating pain. I would spend most of the next two years in bed.
Tog dana sam sprovela mali ekspriment. Prošetala sam tri kilometra od njegove kancelarije do kuće. Noge mi je obuzeo neki čudan bol, skoro kao bol izazivan elektricitetom. Razmišljala sam o tom bolu, pitala se kako bi moj um mogao da stvori sve to. Čim sam prešla preko praga, srušila sam se. Mozak i kičmena moždina su mi goreli. Vrat mi je bio tako ukočen da nisam mogla da savijem glavu do grudi, a i najtiši zvuk poput šuškanja čaršava i koraka mog muža bosonogog u susednoj sobi mogao je da izazove neizdrživ bol. Većinu sledeće dve godine provešću u krevetu.
How could my doctor have gotten it so wrong? I thought I had a rare disease, something doctors had never seen. And then I went online and found thousands of people all over the world living with the same symptoms, similarly isolated, similarly disbelieved. Some could still work, but had to spend their evenings and weekends in bed, just so they could show up the next Monday. On the other end of the spectrum, some were so sick they had to live in complete darkness, unable to tolerate the sound of a human voice or the touch of a loved one.
Kako je moj doktor mogao da napravi takvu grešku? Mislila sam da imam neku retku bolest, nešto što doktori nikada nisu videli, ali onda sam na netu otkrila hiljade ljudi širom sveta koji žive sa istim simptomima, na isti način izolovanim, kojima, takođe, nisu verovali. Neki su i dalje radili, ali su morali da provedu večeri i vikende u krevetu kako bi mogli da se pojave na poslu sledećeg ponedeljka. S druge strane, bilo je onih toliko bolesnih da su morali da žive u potpunoj tami, nesposobni da podnesu čak i glas drugog čoveka ili dodir voljene osobe.
I was diagnosed with myalgic encephalomyelitis. You've probably heard it called "chronic fatigue syndrome." For decades, that's a name that's meant that this has been the dominant image of a disease that can be as serious as this. The key symptom we all share is that whenever we exert ourselves -- physically, mentally -- we pay and we pay hard. If my husband goes for a run, he might be sore for a couple of days. If I try to walk half a block, I might be bedridden for a week. It is a perfect custom prison. I know ballet dancers who can't dance, accountants who can't add, medical students who never became doctors. It doesn't matter what you once were; you can't do it anymore. It's been four years, and I've still never been as well as I was the minute before I walked home from my neurologist's office.
Moja dijagnoza bila je mijalgični encefalomijelitis. Verovatno ste čuli da ga zovu sindrom hroničnog umora. Decenijama je to ime značilo da je ovo preovlađujuća slika bolesti koja može biti ovoliko ozbiljna. Glavni simptom koji delimo je da svaki put kada se napregnemo, fizički ili psihički, platimo debelo za to. Ako moj muž ode na trčanje, imaće upalu mišića nekoliko dana. Ako ja pokušam da prošetam polovinom bloka, provešću nedelju dana u krevetu. To je pravi zatvor napravljen po meri. Znam za balerine koje ne mogu da plešu, za računovođe koji ne znaju da sabiraju, studente medicine koji nikad ne postanu doktori. Nije bitno šta ste nekad bili; to više ne možete da radite. Prošle su četiri godine, a ja nikada nisam više bila zdrava kao onog trenutka pre nego što sam otpešačila kući od neurologa.
It's estimated that about 15 to 30 million people around the world have this disease. In the US, where I'm from, it's about one million people. That makes it roughly twice as common as multiple sclerosis. Patients can live for decades with the physical function of someone with congestive heart failure. Twenty-five percent of us are homebound or bedridden, and 75 to 85 percent of us can't even work part-time. Yet doctors do not treat us and science does not study us. How could a disease this common and this devastating have been forgotten by medicine?
Procenjuje se da između 15 i 30 miliona ljudi širom sveta ima ovu bolest. U SAD, odakle ja potičem, ima ih oko milion. To znači da je obolelih oko dvaput više nego onih sa multiplom sklerozom. Oboleli mogu da žive više decenija sa fizičkim funkcijama nekog ko ima zatajenje srca. Dvadeset pet posto među nama ne može da izađe iz kuće ili kreveta, a 75 do 85 posto ne mogu da rade ni honorarne poslove. I pored toga, doktori nas ne leče, a nauka nas ne proučava. Kako je moguće da je medicina zaboravila na ovako čestu i razornu bolest?
When my doctor diagnosed me with conversion disorder, he was invoking a lineage of ideas about women's bodies that are over 2,500 years old. The Roman physician Galen thought that hysteria was caused by sexual deprivation in particularly passionate women. The Greeks thought the uterus would literally dry up and wander around the body in search of moisture, pressing on internal organs -- yes -- causing symptoms from extreme emotions to dizziness and paralysis. The cure was marriage and motherhood.
Kada mi je doktor ustanovio konverzivni poremećaj, pozivao se na srodne ideje o ženskim telima stare preko 2 500 hiljade godina. Rimski lekar Galen je mislio da histeriju izaziva seksualna apstinencija kod posebno strastvenih žena. Grci su smatrali da se materica bukvalno isuši i luta po telu tražeći vlagu, pritiskajući unutrašnje organe, da, i uzrokujući simptome od veoma snažnih osećanja do vrtoglavice i paralize. Lek je bio brak i majčinstvo.
These ideas went largely unchanged for several millennia until the 1880s, when neurologists tried to modernize the theory of hysteria. Sigmund Freud developed a theory that the unconscious mind could produce physical symptoms when dealing with memories or emotions too painful for the conscious mind to handle. It converted these emotions into physical symptoms. This meant that men could now get hysteria, but of course women were still the most susceptible.
Ove ideje se nisu mnogo promenile nekoliko hiljada godina, do osamdesetih godina 19. veka, kada su neurolozi pokušali da osavremene teoriju histerije. Sigmund Frojd je razvio teoriju po kojoj podsvest može uzrokovati fizičke simptome kada se nosi sa sećanjima i emocijama koje su suviše bolne da ih svesno obuzdamo. To je pretvaralo ova osećanja u fizičke simptome. To je značilo da sad i muškarci pate od histerije, ali su žene ipak podložnije.
When I began investigating the history of my own disease, I was amazed to find how deep these ideas still run. In 1934, 198 doctors, nurses and staff at the Los Angeles County General Hospital became seriously ill. They had muscle weakness, stiffness in the neck and back, fevers -- all of the same symptoms I had when I first got diagnosed. Doctors thought it was a new form of polio. Since then, there have been more than 70 outbreaks documented around the world, of a strikingly similar post-infectious disease. All of these outbreaks have tended to disproportionately affect women, and in time, when doctors failed to find the one cause of the disease, they thought that these outbreaks were mass hysteria.
Kada sam počela da istražujem istoriju svoje bolesti, bila sam zapanjena time koliko su ove ideje duboko uvrežene. Godine 1934, kada se 198 doktora, medicinskih sestara i osoblja Opšte bolnice okruga Los Anđelesa razbolelo, osećali su slabost u mišićima, napetost u vratu i leđima, imali temperaturu, sve simptome koje sam ja imala kada sam dobila prvu dijagnozu. Doktori su mislili da se radi o novom tipu dečje paralize. Od tada, bilo je više od 70 zabeleženih epidemija širom svijeta zapanjujuće sličnog postinfektivnog oboljenja. U svim epidemijama žene su bile znatno više ugrožene, a vremenom, kada doktori nisu uspeli da pronađu uzrok, mislili su da je to masovna histerija.
Why has this idea had such staying power? I do think it has to do with sexism, but I also think that fundamentally, doctors want to help. They want to know the answer, and this category allows doctors to treat what would otherwise be untreatable, to explain illnesses that have no explanation. The problem is that this can cause real harm. In the 1950s, a psychiatrist named Eliot Slater studied a cohort of 85 patients who had been diagnosed with hysteria. Nine years later, 12 of them were dead and 30 had become disabled. Many had undiagnosed conditions like multiple sclerosis, epilepsy, brain tumors. In 1980, hysteria was officially renamed "conversion disorder." When my neurologist gave me that diagnosis in 2012, he was echoing Freud's words verbatim, and even today, women are 2 to 10 times more likely to receive that diagnosis.
Kako je ova ideja i dalje na snazi? Mislim da je to povezano sa seksizmom, ali takođe mislim da doktori zaista žele da pomognu. Žele da znaju odgovor, a ova kategorija im omogućava da leče inače neizlečivu bolest, da objasne bolesti koje nemaju objašnjenje. Problem je što ovo može biti istinski štetno. Psihijatar Eliot Slejter je 1950. godine proučavao grupu od 85 pacijenata kojima je ustanovljena histerija. Devet godina kasnije, dvanaestoro su bili mrtvi, a 30 su postali invalidi. Mnogi su patili od neotkrivenih oboljenja poput multiple skleroze, epilepsije, tumora na mozgu. Histerija je zvanično preimenovana u konverzivni poremećaj 1980. godine. Kada mi je neurolog dao tu dijagnozu 2012. godine, koristio je doslovce Frojdove riječi, a čak i danas, žene imaju 2 do 10 puta veće šanse da dobiju tu dijagnozu.
The problem with the theory of hysteria or psychogenic illness is that it can never be proven. It is by definition the absence of evidence, and in the case of ME, psychological explanations have held back biological research. All around the world, ME is one of the least funded diseases. In the US, we spend each year roughly 2,500 dollars per AIDS patient, 250 dollars per MS patient and just 5 dollars per year per ME patient. This was not just lightning. I was not just unlucky. The ignorance surrounding my disease has been a choice, a choice made by the institutions that were supposed to protect us.
Problem sa teorijom o histeriji ili psihogenim oboljenjima je to što ih je nemoguće dokazati. To je po definiciji nedostatak dokaza, a u slučaju SHU-a, psihološka objašnjenja su stala na put biološkim pretragama. Širom svijeta, istraživanje SHU-a je među najslabije finansiranim. U SAD, godišnje potrošimo oko 2 500 dolara po obolelom od side, 250 dolara po obolelom od multiple skleroze, i samo 5 dolara za obolelog od sindroma hroničnog umora. Ovo se nije desilo iz vedra neba. Nisam bila samo malerozna. Neznanje koje okružuje moju bolest je izbor, izbor koji su donele institucije koje bi trebalo da nas zaštite.
We don't know why ME sometimes runs in families, why you can get it after almost any infection, from enteroviruses to Epstein-Barr virus to Q fever, or why it affects women at two to three times the rate of men. This issue is much bigger than just my disease. When I first got sick, old friends were reaching out to me. I soon found myself a part of a cohort of women in their late 20s whose bodies were falling apart. What was striking was just how much trouble we were having being taken seriously.
Ne znamo zbog čeka se SHU ponekad prenosi u porodici, zašto ga možete dobiti posle skoro bilo koje infekcije od enterovirusa do Epštajn-Barovog virusa i kju groznice. Ne znamo ni zašto 2 do 3 puta češće napada žene. Ovo pitanje je mnogo veće od samo moje bolesti. Kad sam se razbolela, stari prijatelji su mi se javljali. Uskoro sam bila u grupi žena u kasnim dvadesetim čija su se tela raspadala. Bilo je zapanjujuće to koliko je bilo teško učiniti da nas shvate ozbiljno.
I learned of one woman with scleroderma, an autoimmune connective tissue disease, who was told for years that it was all in her head. Between the time of onset and diagnosis, her esophagus was so thoroughly damaged, she will never be able to eat again. Another woman with ovarian cancer, who for years was told that it was just early menopause. A friend from college, whose brain tumor was misdiagnosed for years as anxiety.
Saznala sam za ženu sa sklerodermom, autoimunom bolešću vezivnog tkiva, kojoj su godinama govorili da je sve to u njenoj glavi. Od pojave simptoma do dijagnoze jednjak joj se toliko oštetio da više nikada neće moći da jede. Drugoj ženi sa rakom jajnika godinama su govorili da je to samo rana menopauza. Prijateljici s koledža godinama su tumor na mozgu pogrešno smatrali anksioznošću.
Here's why this worries me: since the 1950s, rates of many autoimmune diseases have doubled to tripled. Forty-five percent of patients who are eventually diagnosed with a recognized autoimmune disease are initially told they're hypochondriacs. Like the hysteria of old, this has everything to do with gender and with whose stories we believe. Seventy-five percent of autoimmune disease patients are women, and in some diseases, it's as high as 90 percent. Even though these diseases disproportionately affect women, they are not women's diseases. ME affects children and ME affects millions of men. And as one patient told me, we get it coming and going -- if you're a woman, you're told you're exaggerating your symptoms, but if you're a guy, you're told to be strong, to buck up. And men may even have a more difficult time getting diagnosed.
Evo zbog čega me ovo brine. Od 50-ih godina 20. veka, učestalost mnogih autoimunih bolesti se dvaput ili triput povećala. Za 45% obolelih za koje se najzad utvrdi da pate od poznate autoimune bolesti se na početku kaže da su hipohondri. Kao nekad s histerijom, i ovo je u potpunosti povezano s polom i s tim čijim pričama verujemo. Žene predstavljaju 75% obolelih od autoimunih bolesti, a za neke bolesti taj broj dostiže čak 90 posto. Iako ove bolesti nesrazmerno češće napadaju žene, one nisu ženske bolesti. SHU napada decu i milione muškaraca. Kako mi je jedan oboleli rekao, u škripcu smo. Ako ste žena, kažu vam da preuveličavate simptome, a ako ste muškarac, kažu vam da podignete glavu gore i budete jaki. A muškarcima je možda i teže doći do dijagnoze.
My brain is not what it used to be.
Moj mozak nije više ono što je bio.
Here's the good part: despite everything, I still have hope. So many diseases were once thought of as psychological until science uncovered their biological mechanisms. Patients with epilepsy could be forcibly institutionalized until the EEG was able to measure abnormal electrical activity in the brain. Multiple sclerosis could be misdiagnosed as hysterical paralysis until the CAT scan and the MRI discovered brain lesions. And recently, we used to think that stomach ulcers were just caused by stress, until we discovered that H. pylori was the culprit. ME has never benefited from the kind of science that other diseases have had, but that's starting to change. In Germany, scientists are starting to find evidence of autoimmunity, and in Japan, of brain inflammation. In the US, scientists at Stanford are finding abnormalities in energy metabolism that are 16 standard deviations away from normal. And in Norway, researchers are running a phase-3 clinical trial on a cancer drug that in some patients causes complete remission.
A sad vedrija strana. Uprkos svemu, i dalje se nadam. Toliko mnogo bolesti se nekada smatralo psihološkim dok nauka nije otkrila njihove biološke mehanizme. Obolele od epilepsije su nasilno stavljali u institucije, dok elektroencefalografija nije uspela da izmeri abnormalnu moždanu električnu aktivnost. Multipla skleroza se mogla pogrešno dijagnostikovati kao histerija, dok tomografija i MRT nisu otkrile moždane lezije. A do nedavno smo mislili da stres uzrokuje peptički ulkus, dok nismo otkrili bakteriju uzročnika. SHU nikada nije dobio pažnju nauke poput drugih bolesti, ali to počinje da se menja. U Nemačkoj naučnici nalaze dokaze o autoimunosti, a u Japanu o moždanim upalama. U SAD, naučnici na Stendfordu otkrivaju abnormalnosti u metaboličkom stvaranju energije, koje su 16 standardnih devijacija dalje od normalnih. A u Norveškoj, istraživači vode treću fazu kliničkog ispitivanja leka protiv raka koji kod nekih obolelih izaziva potpunu remisiju.
What also gives me hope is the resilience of patients. Online we came together, and we shared our stories. We devoured what research there was. We experimented on ourselves. We became our own scientists and our own doctors because we had to be. And slowly I added five percent here, five percent there, until eventually, on a good day, I was able to leave my home. I still had to make ridiculous choices: Will I sit in the garden for 15 minutes, or will I wash my hair today? But it gave me hope that I could be treated. I had a sick body; that was all. And with the right kind of help, maybe one day I could get better.
Ono što mi takođe daje nadu je snaga obolelih osoba. Združili smo se putem interneta i podelili svoje priče. Začas smo prošli kroz postojeća istraživanja. Vršili smo eksperimente na sebi. Postali smo sami naučnici i sopstveni doktori, jer smo to morali da budemo. I polako sam dodala 5% tu i tamo, dok konačno, jednog dobrog dana, nisam mogla da izađem iz kuće. I dalje sam morala da pravim smešne izbore. Da li da sedim u bašti 15 minuta ili da operem kosu danas? Ali to mi je dalo nadu da mogu biti izlečena. Moje telo je bolesno, to je sve. I možda će mi jednog dana biti bolje sa pravom vrstom pomoći.
I came together with patients around the world, and we started to fight. We have filled the void with something wonderful, but it is not enough. I still don't know if I will ever be able to run again, or walk at any distance, or do any of those kinetic things that I now only get to do in my dreams. But I am so grateful for how far I have come. Progress is slow, and it is up and it is down, but I am getting a little better each day.
Združila sam se s pacijentima iz čitavog sveta i počeli smo da se borimo. Ispunili smo prazninu nečim divnim, ali to nije dovoljno. I dalje ne znam da li ću ikada ponovo moći da trčim, ili duže hodam, ili pravim bilo koje od pokreta koje sada imam samo u snovima. ali sam zahvalna zbog ovog napretka. Napredak je spor i ima uspona i padova, a mi je svakog dana malo bolje.
I remember what it was like when I was stuck in that bedroom, when it had been months since I had seen the sun. I thought that I would die there. But here I am today, with you, and that is a miracle.
Setim se kako je bilo zatvorenoj u sobi, kada mesecima nisam videla sunce. Mislila sam da ću tu umreti. Ali sam danas ovde, sa vama, što je pravo čudo.
I don't know what would have happened had I not been one of the lucky ones, had I gotten sick before the internet, had I not found my community. I probably would have already taken my own life, as so many others have done. How many lives could we have saved, decades ago, if we had asked the right questions? How many lives could we save today if we decide to make a real start?
Ne znam šta bih da nisam jedna od srećnih, da sam se razbolela pre interneta, da nisam pronašla svoju zajednicu. Verovatno bih oduzela sebi život, kao što su i mnogi drugi. Koliko života smo mogli da spasemo još pre nekoliko decenija da smo samo postavili prava pitanja? Koliko života bismo sada mogli da sačuvamo ako odlučimo da se zaista potrudimo?
Even once the true cause of my disease is discovered, if we don't change our institutions and our culture, we will do this again to another disease. Living with this illness has taught me that science and medicine are profoundly human endeavors. Doctors, scientists and policy makers are not immune to the same biases that affect all of us.
Čak i kada se otkrije pravi uzrok moje bolesti, ako ne promenimo naše institucije i kulturu, učinićemo ovo isto sa nekom drugom bolešću. Život sa ovom bolešću me naučio da su nauka i medicina tipični ljudski poduhvati. Doktori, naučnici i sami stvaraoci politike nisu imuni na pristrasnost koja nam je svima svojstvena.
We need to think in more nuanced ways about women's health. Our immune systems are just as much a battleground for equality as the rest of our bodies. We need to listen to patients' stories, and we need to be willing to say, "I don't know." "I don't know" is a beautiful thing. "I don't know" is where discovery starts. And if we can do that, if we can approach the great vastness of all that we do not know, and then, rather than fear uncertainty, maybe we can greet it with a sense of wonder.
Moramo da razmišljamo na suptilnije načine o zdravlju žena. Naši imuni sistemi su poprište borbe za jednakost, baš kao i ostatak naših tela. Treba da saslušamo priče obolelih i treba da budemo spremni da kažemo „ne znam“. Reći „ne znam“ je prelepa stvar. „Ne znam“ je početak potrage. I ako to možemo, ako možemo da pristupimo ogromnom mnoštvu stvari koje ne znamo i umjesto da se plašimo neizvesnosti, možemo ih dočekati i zapitati se nad njima.
Thank you.
Hvala.
Thank you.
Hvala.