In October 2013, aged 52, I suffered a stroke, leaving me with attention deficit, speech, concentration, and memory problems, and overwhelming fatigue. I had been a 60-hour a week GP but very suddenly felt my mind was a fraction of what it had been. I felt as though I had fallen off a cliff. Residual cognitive symptoms forced an early retirement. I could easily have killed someone with a computer mouse - through clinical error rather than actual assault.

Though I was glad to be alive, I quickly felt lost without my purpose in life. Being a doctor has been my ambition since I was four years old. Now my ambition had been amputated.

It was during a gloomy period of feeling adrift that I discovered Carlton Marshes. Though I’d lived in the vicinity for almost three decades, I’d always been too busy to see what was on my doorstep. I contacted and met Matt Gooch the then Warden and signed up as a volunteer.

I wasn’t sure what I’d like to do. I tried a working party session but rapidly learnt that my stamina post-stroke was not up to it. I was escorted off the reed beds exhausted after only 2 hours, leaving older adults busy sawing up hunks of willow. I felt rather useless.

Next I tried an education session, but also found this was not for me. Making Easter chicks from paper plates is cute but didn’t give me the fulfilment I sought.

Now in my fourth year of volunteering, I have settled happily into studying the small residents of the marshes. Anything with 6 or 8 legs fascinates me. The low energy requirement of small creature study suits my new brain and body limitations but also gives me brain food and learning substrate. I still love study - though in smaller portions than I had been used to. It connects me with the interests of my school years and somehow I can tap into youthful energy for a time. The benefits of volunteering have astounded me. It’s not an exaggeration to say it’s given me a new raison d’etre.

2019 saw my third annual Fen Raft spider survey and I began to see changes and positive spread of the population of spiders there, bred and translocated there by Dr Helen Smith, the UK’s leading authority on the Fen Raft spider.

Helen also let me take on some special behavioural observational studies, to try and help her answer questions she has about the Fen Raft spider. For these I tramp off into the marshes laden with a folding chair, tripod, camera, binoculars and a cold drink, find a web and/or adult, and settle into my chair to observe and write notes for a couple of hours. I’m also honing my photographic skills in a steep learning curve!

Some friends say this research must be incredibly boring - but they completely miss the point. It’s great to be using my brain and observational skills, and to contribute a few bricks to the huge and growing edifice of scientific conservational knowledge. It’s very peaceful. Being in all that tranquillity recharges the spirit - even with the sound of diggers in the distance, building the new visitor centre and creating new wetlands, they are working hard to make even more beauty. It’s a far cry from the manic working life I once had.

I write up the day’s work and publish it in my wildlife blog. If you’d like to know more, please head on over to www.docdoolittle.blog and go to the Fen Raft spider behavioural studies section. I’d be really pleased if you hit the “follow” button and stay in touch.

Sadly the blog is quite out of date now - as over the winter I tend to stay indoors and lockdown has killed off, for now, any adventures at Carlton to inspire me to write. I will restart it when I am inspired to write again.

I ventured down to Carlton last week after two months at home, and it was like meeting an old friend again: my wife, our two dachshunds and I enjoyed the space and simple beauty as though for the first time. It recharged our spirits and lifted us out of lockdown low mood.

I look forward with excitement to the return of volunteering opportunities once we are out of the difficulties of 2020. The current expansion work at Carlton has already restarted and I can’t wait to explore the new landscape and facilities.

Most of all I can’t wait to see my ladies again -the lady spiders of the marshes, with their egg sacs and babies and incredibly sophisticated behaviours. Which leads me to a suitable signing off: one day last summer I came back from a happy afternoon on the marshes, after a few hours’ studying several females with egg sacs in close proximity, and commented to my wife “I have to go back to the marshes tomorrow and see the ladies again”. “What ladies?!” she responded, looking rather perturbed. “The ladies!” I replied. “The spider ladies with their egg sacs!” It was almost the end of a beautiful relationship. 

Dr Vincent Forte