TAIPEI (Taiwan News) — Lin Sheng-yi (林昇誼), an anesthesiologist at Chang Gung Memorial Hospital in Linkou, recounted her experience working on the front lines of conflict in Sudan, where she fought to save lives under extreme conditions.
Lin took part in three Doctors Without Borders missions over the past two years, serving in Afghanistan, West Africa, and, most recently, Sudan. Speaking to CNA via video conference, she said the work is nothing like the movies but has been profoundly meaningful.
She described one case in which she saved a young man whose jaw had been shattered in an explosion. As the wound healed, he slowly regained the ability to eat and speak again. “His voice was soft but resonated like thunder,” she said.
Most of Lin’s colleagues at the local hospital were Sudanese staff with limited English abilities, communicating through gestures, facial expressions, or mobile phone translation apps. When they were overwhelmed, she said, they would take brief breaks at one of the area’s two cafes, thatched huts with plastic tables and no air conditioning, a rare refuge from the chaos of the front-line.
Lin said many of her colleagues were themselves victims of war, with family members missing or fighting at the front. News arrived constantly: some were injured, some unaccounted for, and some simply did not return.
“I saw a colleague receive a message outside the operating room, and they suddenly squatted down and cried,” she said. One of her most unforgettable moments came in mid-November, when a newly arrived anesthesiologist embraced an old colleague, both in tears. The new arrival had been presumed dead. “Simply to be alive here is such a luxury,” Lin said.
She described the Sudanese people as warm and resilient, greeting her kindly even amid hardship. Their endurance moved her deeply. Patients tore off bandages stuck to their wounds without making a sound, “as if they were already used to it; the pain and chaos never stopped.”
During her seven weeks in Sudan, Lin performed CPR five times, all unsuccessfully. Each loss felt crushing, she said. One patient was a woman in her 40s, pregnant with her 11th child. The baby died during childbirth, and the mother’s death left behind 10 children, a case Lin still struggles to process. She relies on close friends to help her cope emotionally and avoid being overwhelmed.
Lin often worked until eight or nine p.m. in a high-pressure surgical environment. By the time she returned to her quarters, exhaustion left her only enough energy to “wash up and sleep.” Sometimes she leaned on conversations with friends in Taiwan, calling them a lifeline that kept her going.
Her time on the front lines taught her that practicing medicine is not about heroic moments but about recognizing humanity and hope amid suffering. Small gestures of support and companionship matter, she said, rejecting praise that labels her a hero.
“I just feel that if I have the ability, I should do my part. What the front lines need is not just medical staff,” Lin said. Even those who cannot go can donate, share information, or show concern for people in conflict zones. She said that simply learning about the crises in Sudan and Gaza is meaningful.
“After the mission, I was often moved by everyday life in Taiwan. I almost cried on the air-conditioned bus,” Lin said. What she brought home from the front lines, she added, was a quiet strength, not the strength of heroes, but of ordinary people who refuse to give up.
“It allowed me to keep going under pressure,” she said, “because I know that as long as someone is willing to stay, those places won’t be completely dark.”
