Mohammed Is Here For The Remedy
June 29, 2011 by Alex · Leave a Comment

Today, I hesitated outside the entrance of the hospital ward in southern Iraq. Kids spend most of the day waiting for surgery in this room.
Mothers and their children filled the room, and I didn’t want to barge into a room that these families might have thought were off-limits to outsiders.
But as I stood there, recognizing that I was the outsider, looking confused and out-of-place, a 6-year-old boy named Mohammed walked up, smiled, and took my hand as if he knew exactly what I was going through.
He safely escorted me to the back of the room so I could meet the family I had come to see.
Mohammed never left my side, but just kept holding my hand and making me feel more at-ease until he felt that his duty had been completed.
We couldn’t speak to each other and even though we interacted for only a few minutes, I can’t help but to look forward to spending more time with Mohammed.
What makes me more excited is that Mohammed isn’t just here to help out this goofy foreigner; he’s here to have his failing heart restored.
He’s here for the Remedy.
The doctors are still unclear as to how complicated Mohammed’s heart condition is, but they’re beginning the tests that will help them know what needs to be done to reclaim his heart.
In the meantime, we’ll just keep waiting.
Stay tuned for more updates on Mohammed.
While you wait check out Rokya’s Mom documenting her daughter’s Remedy in Iraq on our Facebook page.
Our Partners:

| Alex Phillips, a two-time PLC summer intern ('10 & '11), has invested his heart into the surgical and medicinal aid available to the children of Iraq, hoping to better understand the complicated ties between poverty and health. On his off days, Alex spends his time reading up on his field, listening to punk rock, riding his bike, and updating his Twitter: @_alexphillips. |
How My Search For Healing Ended With A Laugh And A Half-Eaten Peach
June 20, 2011 by Ted · 1 Comment

I walked into a pretty standard Iraqi home.
I sat down on a couch while the television informed us of an Iraqi political event.
I drank Mountain Dew from a glass bottle, thankful for the familiarity of a soda.
Then I met Hawlbast, a little boy who loves fruit, his family and giving kisses.
I found myself looking him over – looking for some sign that would indicate he had been healed. Something more than just the scar I knew was beneath his shirt. This was the little boy who in March of this year was laying on an operating room table undergoing open heart surgery. Surely I would be able to tell he had been through that.
But there was nothing.
He merely played with his brother, pretended to answer the phone and thoroughly enjoyed looking at pictures of himself.
He was behaving like any young boy his age would and it hit me: this is healing. Healing is being restored to what we were meant to be. In Hawlbast’s case, he wasn’t meant to have blue, poorly-oxygenated skin or shortness of breath- all of which he had to endure prior to his surgery.
I’m not naive enough to believe that there are zero complications lying beneath Hawlbast’s smile, but for now being restored in Hawlbast’s case means spending time with his family and brightening their day.
So when Hawlbast laughed and threw his half eaten peach at his smiling dad, I smiled too. I’m sure my father endured the same at my hands when I was Hawlbast’s age, and to me, that is a sign of healing.
| Ted is making the magic happen as PLC's videography intern this summer ('11). He'll be the first to tell you: he shoots and edits to the glory of GOD and the benefit of Iraqi kids. When he isn't panning his camera, well... just go here to read just a few of Ted's lovable idiosyncrasies. He's also an avid Tweeter: @tedvid. |
Finding Familiarity In An Unlikely Place | An Intern’s Perspective on Followthrough
June 10, 2011 by Adam · Leave a Comment

Yusuf is a brave 1-year-old who underwent heart surgery this past March. When his family brought him to the hospital, Yusuf blood had low levels of oxygen that had already tainted his skin blue. The surgeon needed to fix four heart defects for Yusuf to survive.
But thanks to caring donors and local support, Yusuf is very much alive!
You helped Yusuf receive a heart surgery, and, because of you, I was able to visit and make sure his recovery is going well. This is what we call Followthrough. CLICK HERE to learn more on the importance of Followthrough.
As we sat down with Yusuf and his family I was overwhelmed with all the cultural differences around me, but there was a strange sense of familiarity as well.
Shortly after we sat and talked in Yusuf’s living room, his family rolled out a giant feast for us. We ate until we were full, and there was still enough left to feed us for dinner! Then we drank tea, and the refills seemed to be endless.
As we drank tea and took photos of Yusuf, his older sister played with him and entertained us with her hilarious faces. Yusuf’s grandfather would toss his phone across the living room floor while Yusuf would scoot across the room to return it again and again.

The familiarity I recognized during my visit was the same warm family dynamic and rejoicing I experience with my own family.
Even though we ate sitting down on a concrete floor, followed a completely different set of manners, and understood very little of the words spoken, the joy and relationship between these family members was the same as many American families I know.
We laughed and enjoyed the fact that their son’s life had been rescued. At this point in the visit I began to see these faces as my family and friends rather than as distant strangers.
This family was so grateful for us, for their son, for his surgery, and for a community willing to come together to provide a solution for their needs. I felt the warmth in their home through photos of Yusuf, endless cups of tea, a floor full of food, and a room bursting with smiles.
No matter how great the cultural barriers there are some values and moments humanity can rejoice in and enjoy together. These shared moments and values are the most significant puzzle pieces of our own identity.
| Adam is spending his summer using words and writing to connect hearts and minds to children with CHD. That means poring over newsletters, blog posts, and photo captions to make sure these children are heard and that they get their shot at surgery. When not buried in metaphor, Adam enjoys playing the violin, hiking, and photography. He's also on Twitter @adamhallbrandt. |
Meet the Interns: Our First Impressions of Iraq
June 7, 2011 by Ted · Leave a Comment
| Ted is making the magic happen as PLC's videography intern this summer ('11). He'll be the first to tell you: he shoots and edits to the glory of GOD and the benefit of Iraqi kids. When he isn't panning his camera, well... just go here to read just a few of Ted's lovable idiosyncrasies. He's also an avid Tweeter: @tedvid. |
The Similarities Between Georgia, USA and Iraq: An Intern’s Perspective
May 27, 2011 by Alex · 2 Comments
After arriving in southern Iraq about a week ago, I noticed a striking similarity to my first trip in northern Iraq last summer: being graciously welcomed by everyone we met. I can’t say that I was surprised by the Iraqi hospitality (it’s great everywhere we go) but I certainly enjoyed it.

One thing that did surprise me, however, was how similar some parts of southern Iraq are to my home in southeast Georgia. On our day off from working at the hospital, we traveled to the ziggurat at Ur, the city where Abraham started his sojourn, and to the marshes outside of the city. Okay, so maybe there aren’t any huge ziggurat pyramids in southeast Georgia, but there are definitely marshes. Our hosts arranged for us to be taken out onto the water in canoes- I could easily have forgotten where I was while looking out over the beautiful landscape. Of course, turning to the right and seeing a boatload (literally) of our Iraqi friends laughing and taking pictures reminded me I wasn’t in Kansas–I mean Georgia–anymore. Still, between being near my familiar marshes and the incredible hospitality, I keep feeling more and more at home here in southern Iraq.
Our Partners:

| Alex Phillips, a two-time PLC summer intern ('10 & '11), has invested his heart into the surgical and medicinal aid available to the children of Iraq, hoping to better understand the complicated ties between poverty and health. On his off days, Alex spends his time reading up on his field, listening to punk rock, riding his bike, and updating his Twitter: @_alexphillips. |
Meet Dr. Bob
May 26, 2011 by Alex · Leave a Comment

He’s a retired pediatric cardiologist who spends some of his free time working with International Children’s Heart Foundation, helping kids in Iraq and training the future of Iraqi medical care—doctors and nurses who are eager to learn. Dr. Bob’s kind demeanor, patience, and medical expertise make him an incredible teacher and the kind of partner we love and need to have in Iraq. These qualities also made the brief conversations we’ve had very enjoyable.
Dr. Bob’s responsibilities here include performing echocardiograms (ultrasounds of the heart), repairing hearts through minimally invasive procedures, and training local staff to do the same. Between saving lives and equipping his Iraqi students with knowledge and skills for the future; Dr. Bob renewed my sense of awe in medical care and motivation for pursuing advances in treatment here in Iraq and beyond.
Want to know more about guys like Dr. Bob? Check out our medical partner, ICHF, on Facebook.
Our Partners:

| Alex Phillips, a two-time PLC summer intern ('10 & '11), has invested his heart into the surgical and medicinal aid available to the children of Iraq, hoping to better understand the complicated ties between poverty and health. On his off days, Alex spends his time reading up on his field, listening to punk rock, riding his bike, and updating his Twitter: @_alexphillips. |
Remember Nivar?
May 21, 2011 by Lydia · 2 Comments

There are people in my life whom I haven’t seen in months and probably won’t see but once a year. When we meet again, we’ll spend most of our time discussing what’s happened since the last time we talked, trading stories and catching up on all the details. But when it comes to this particular Kurdish girl, it’s all different.
As an intern last summer I connected deeply with 8-year-old Nivar. Her sweet personality won all of us over, and her striking eyes captivated many of you. Her case was urgent and her parents’ money tight, but after a few pictures and stories, the donations poured in. You made it possible for Nivar to get surgery in Turkey last July.
I went with her, and I spent most of my free time in her room playing hand-clap games and learning the Kurdish names for colors. Without any language we became fast friends. I was there during her operation, and the photo below is the last I saw of her before leaving Istanbul for America. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

But this morning, after 10 months, I got to see Nivar again. I was both nervous and excited. I couldn’t remember any of my Kurdish colors, the names of animals, or the rhyme we’d used in our hand-clapping games. We were greeted at the door and ushered into the house by Nivar’s parents. Just then, Nivar came running in from a back room, healthier than I’ve ever seen her. She seemed shy at first, very quiet and polite. After a few minutes I went out to the car for something and Nivar followed me. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed my cheeks, then started laughing and speaking Kurdish.
Not understanding a word, I quickly grabbed what I needed and let her pull me by the hand back into the house where she led me past all of the grown ups and into her room. First thing? Hand clapping games. We played with her doll, a toy piano keyboard and a story book written in English.
When her dad came in to call us to lunch she spoke hurriedly to him in Kurdish. He laughed and pointed at Nivar, then at me, and said carefully, “I love you”. My heart smiled. I remembered in the hospital in Turkey when Nivar had sent the same message through her (non-English speaking) father to me the morning of her heart surgery.
After lunch Nivar brought out her parent’s point-and-shoot to take pictures of me, her favorite way to tease me for the millions of pictures I’ve taken of her. It was so great to watch this little girl run around the room laughing; its hard to believe its the very same girl who could hardly catch her breath the last time I saw her.
As we got ready to leave, Nivar smiled and said something shyly to one of the Kurdish-speaking PLC staff. “She wants you to be her sister,” they translated.
My friendship with Nivar ranks high on my list of PLC Summer 2010 memories. Watching her grow more and more sick as her surgery approached, then actually standing at the foot of her operating table while doctors worked to correct her heart condition created an unforgettable bond between me and this little girl. 10 months later, I’m ready to start another summer of memories with Nivar and others like her.

| Lydia Bullock wrote and photographed for us during the 2010 summer internship and then again for 7 months in 2011. She documented surgical missions in northern and southern Iraq. See more of her excellent work on our Flickr stream, or follow her on Twitter: @lydiabullock. |
Encouraging Words From a US Marine
May 15, 2011 by Jeremy · 2 Comments
Just in case the image didn’t load or if you’re having trouble reading the letter:
“Dear PLC, My name is —- and I’m sending this check to you in order to support —- in her Summer Internship to Iraq this year. As an Arabic Linguist in the Marine Corps with a background in studying Arab and Iraqi culture, as well as Terrorism and Insurgencies, I want you to know that I see what you do to help the Iraqi people as being one of the greatest ways to help stabilize Iraq and disarm the violence in the region. The medical missions trips and fundraising that you do is an amazing way to reach the Iraqi people that really protects the most valuable part of their lives – their children. Your mission of saving lives is the greatest way to spread God’s universal message of love. That same calling to love is why I am sending you this check now. It’s not a payment for any kind of material goods or services, it is simply my support for both a wonderful student and a great organization, the two of which I know will change lives and have a great impact on the World for God. Please stay safe, and persist always in love.”
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Jeremy Courtney lives and loves in Iraq as a co-founder and Executive Director of the Preemptive Love Coalition. He's also the father of two spectacular children, and married to the lovely Jessica Courtney. When not absorbed in PLC work he can be found writing songs and singing about hope and future. Follow Jeremy on Twitter: @JCourt. |
Surgery, the “Neglected Stepchild” of Global Health
April 3, 2011 by Alex · 2 Comments
In preparing for my 2nd internship with PLC this summer I came across an article written by two well-known global health advocates and physicians (a prof at Harvard and the current president of Dartmouth, if you’re into credentials) on the topic of surgery in the global health movement. [Paul E. Farmer and Jim Y. Kim. 2008. "Surgery and Global Health: a View from Beyond the OR." World Journal of Surgery 32:533-536].
After discussing this article with one of the directors at PLC and thinking about our current model for surgical aid in Iraq, a few points stood out:
The authors’ first argument is that surgery is the “neglected stepchild of global healthcare.” The fact is, although surgical diseases (CHD being one of the most prevalent) are a major cause of death and disability in much of the world, the vast majority of healthcare programs don’t address surgical needs.
Why? Because surgical interventions are usually complicated and require a larger investment than other kinds of health interventions, and treating surgical diseases requires a more advanced infrastructure and the involvement of more professionals than treating, for instance, malnutrition or malaria.
There is also the fact that surgical diseases have lacked the same kind of advocacy and exposure that have led to funding and programs for “high-profile” diseases like tuberculosis or AIDS.
The other major issue addressed by Farmer and Kim is that countries that actually have the surgical services often only have them in just a few locales, and the treatment is usually too expensive to be accessible by most of the population.
The question then arises: how do we make this treatment available in settings where infrastructure is poor, trained professionals are scarce, equipment is needed, and “the only thing not needed is disease, which exists abundantly.”
Remedy Missions are our answer to that question.
As you know, we recently moved from sending children abroad for surgery to a model that provides more surgeries at less cost while simultaneously training local professionals.
These Remedy Missions specifically address the impediments to surgery in global health described by Farmer and Kim.
They provide treatment of CHD for families that would never be able to afford traveling abroad for surgery. Our work also means we’re freeing surgeons up to focus on surgery, because, as Farmer and Kim write, “clearly we don’t want surgeons to be dragged out of the operating room to manage logistics, supply chains…and financing.”
Remedy Missions provide crucial training for all the different health professionals that are required for a surgery to be successful (surgeons, cardiologists, nurses, etc.).
This process of providing surgery and training is also an exercise in infrastructure building as we work toward the development of heart centers in northern and southern Iraq. The fact that we can count both regional and national governments as partners addresses the need for surgical care in the public sector in Iraq, and it bodes especially well for poor families who will need to receive treatment in the future.
Lastly, the partnership and advocacy of our supporters (that’s YOU) is helping to raise awareness of the burden of CHD and other surgical diseases in places like Iraq.
With well-planned, structured interventions that take into account the needs and problems associated with surgical disease globally, and the support and advocacy of a Coalition of concerned individuals and communities (that’d be you again), problems like CHD can cease to be a “neglected stepchild” of global health and instead serve as a model for building health systems and effecting powerful change in global contexts.
| Alex Phillips, a two-time PLC summer intern ('10 & '11), has invested his heart into the surgical and medicinal aid available to the children of Iraq, hoping to better understand the complicated ties between poverty and health. On his off days, Alex spends his time reading up on his field, listening to punk rock, riding his bike, and updating his Twitter: @_alexphillips. |
Former PLC Intern to Marry PLC Artist & Donate Their Wedding Fund to Save Lives in Iraq
October 12, 2010 by Jeremy · Leave a Comment
Former PLC Intern to Marry PLC Artist & Donate Their Wedding Fund Christin interned with Preemptive Love in Iraq in 2009 and Ben has been a volunteer artist for various PLC needs since 2007. Now they are getting married and using their wedding as an occasion to save lives in Iraq!
Last August during our first Remedy Mission we served 25 kids. That means all the children in the photos below could easily be served in February if we can bring the American surgical team back to Iraq. You can save lives like Christin and Ben are by donating below!
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Jeremy Courtney lives and loves in Iraq as a co-founder and Executive Director of the Preemptive Love Coalition. He's also the father of two spectacular children, and married to the lovely Jessica Courtney. When not absorbed in PLC work he can be found writing songs and singing about hope and future. Follow Jeremy on Twitter: @JCourt. |
















