There’s nothing quite like spending time by the pool. Cool water. Time with loved ones. A delicious snack. What could be better?

But before you grab your towel and jump in the water, pay attention to a few common poolside habits that doctors wish more swimmers and parents would think twice about.

We spoke to some clinicians about the behaviours they’d personally avoid in and around the pool this summer. Here’s what they had to say:

It might feel pointless, especially if you’re planning to shower afterwards, but a pre-swim rinse matters more than you may realise.

Sweat, sunscreen, body lotions, hair products and natural skin oils all react with chlorine when they hit the water, which reduces chlorine’s ability to kill germs and creates irritating byproducts that can sting eyes and aggravate skin.

That’s why the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommends a quick pre-swim rinse, at least a minute under the shower, to wash off bacteria and other microbes you might unknowingly be carrying in.

This is especially key if “someone is dirty or has sand on them, as to not contaminate the water or clog up filtration systems,” said Dr Chris Bunick, a Yale Medicine dermatologist and associate professor at Yale School of Medicine.

It’s easy for glass to end up around the pool in the summer, whether from an open bar, poolside cocktails or carrying bottled beverages near the water. However, it can be a risk for both swimmers and people on the deck.

“Broken glass is not a visible hazard. Whether on the pool deck or in the water, it can be nearly invisible,” said Dr Steven Valassis, chair of the emergency department at Hartford HealthCare St. Vincent’s Medical Center.

“When combined with the fact that people are typically barefoot, this can lead to significant lacerations. Nearly 5% of these lacerations are deep enough that they require hospital admission and surgical repair,” he added.

Additionally, glass that ends up in a pool can be especially problematic because even tiny pieces are difficult to detect and remove, sometimes necessitating a full drain as well as professional cleaning, Dr Valassis explained.

The good news is you don’t have to ditch your poolside drink, just the glassware. Try plastic cups or aluminum cans instead.

The biggest misconception parents get about drowning is that they think they’d hear if their child got into trouble in the water. But the reality is far scarier.

“Drowning is fast, often silent, and can happen to any child. A survey found that 48% of parents mistakenly believe they would hear splashing or crying if a child was in trouble. Sadly, this is often not the case,” Valassis said.

Although swim lessons can help improve water safety skills, the American Academy of Pediatrics emphasises that swim lessons alone do not eliminate a child’s risk of drowning.

Drowning can happen in seconds, according to the CDC, so constant, focused supervision is non-negotiable, no matter how well your child swims.

Even if you’ve been looking forward to a day at the pool, it’s best to sit this one out if you’re feeling under the weather – especially if you’re dealing with a stomach bug.

“Swimming in the pool while sick is generally not a good idea, because further swimming and activity may precipitate nausea, vomiting and add risk for dehydration, all which may make a person more ill,” Dr Bunick said.

There’s also the issue of getting others sick through close contact. “Illnesses can be transmitted through pool water because the chlorine or other chemicals do not necessarily work instantly to stop infectious agents, thus allowing a window of time for infectious agents to pass to other people,” Dr Bunick added.

If you have a fresh scrape, deep cut or surgical incision, it’s best to keep it dry.

“It is best to not swim in the pool with an open wound, especially with a deep scrape or gash,” Dr Bunick said.

“First, the chlorine or other chemicals used to treat the water can further damage tissue in the wound, adding to skin breakdown and inflammation. Second, there is risk of infection of the wound with continued exposure to water, and this risk is increased more if swimming in lake, river or ocean water.”

If you have a minor cut or paper cut, you likely don’t need to skip the pool altogether. Dr Bunick recommended covering the wound with a healing ointment and a waterproof bandage before swimming in chlorinated water.

Just keep an eye on the area afterward, as redness, swelling or drainage could signal an infection that needs further medical attention, he explained.

While it may seem unlikely, this scenario is more common than many people realise, especially for children, who can get into trouble without ever reaching the deep end of the water.

“If a child dives into a shallow pool and hits their head on the bottom, the initial impact can cause a head/brain injury. The force is then transmitted from the head to the neck and cervical spine, where the spinal cord can be injured. This can potentially lead to paralysis and, in severe cases, the inability to breathe independently,” Dr Valassis said.

Most of these injuries don’t happen at public pools with lifeguards; they happen at home, Dr Valassis explained. The American Red Cross recommends going feet first into unfamiliar water.

The good news, Dr Valassis emphasised, is that most pool injuries are preventable with basic precautions and awareness. So this summer, swim smart and enjoy the splash.

I thought I wouldn’t mind turning 60 one little bit. After all, my 50s had been my best decade ever. Yes, my face was saggier, my memory iffier and my body didn’t bounce back from late nights or lengthy walks like it used to.

However, I felt more confident and content than I’d ever felt in my 20s, 30s or 40s. I was finally happy with who I was and where all the pieces of my life had landed. I had more zest for life than ever! So turning 60 wouldn’t make any difference. It really was just a number.

My 60th birthday landed with an unexpected thud. Almost overnight, I felt older and uglier, stiffer in my movements and foggier in my mind.

It turned out I wasn’t even imagining it. According to an article I stumbled across online, new research showed that there really is a sudden “burst” of ageing at 60 – a fast-forwarding of the disintegration process. But that wasn’t what was bothering me the most.

What really bothered me was that now that I’d tipped over into my 60s, people were starting to respond to me differently. I had to work a lot harder at parties to get people younger than me to engage in conversation – or even notice me in the first place. And teens and 20-somethings often brushed against me in the street now as if I literally wasn’t there.

I was becoming invisible.

My confidence started to shrivel. Before I knew it, I was caught in a negative feedback loop. The less readily people noticed or engaged with me, the less readily I did anything to make them notice or engage with me. I could feel myself turning into a meeker, milder, mediocre version of myself.

Was this the beginning of the end? Was I just meant to let myself shrink into my 60s? I wasn’t ready for that.

An idea started to form. Let’s make 60 count, I thought. Let’s take that number and play with it. Turn it into something positive and meaningful, fun and fulfilling, something that would let me reclaim my confidence and connection with people – whoever they were, whatever their age.

I decided to invite 60 random people to sit down and have a cup of tea with me. Some would be total strangers. Some would be people I’d noticed and was curious about from a distance. Others would be people I knew a tiny bit and wanted to know more. And I’d also include friends and family I knew well – or thought I did!

Because I wasn’t just looking for small talk, there needed to be a bit more to it, though. I decided I’d ask each person the same set of tea-themed questions – yes, tea! – that I hoped would gently springboard us into meaningful conversation and connection.

After all, I was an English person living in England, a country steeped in the tradition of “a nice cup of tea”. The drink is intertwined with our rituals, families, relationships and memories.

My own deep enjoyment of tea, I’m sure, has very little to do with the taste of it, and everything to do with the fact that the only consistent act of love my dad showed me as a child was to bring me a cup of it in bed – with milk, two sugars, and two biscuits – every single morning.

Still, my new, shyer, 60-year-old self wavered. Would people even say yes to my invites, or just think I was a batty old lady? Would I really dare to ask strangers? Would the questions actually work?

Before I could change my mind, Cup of Tea No.1 fell into my hands.

“I hear you’ve had a big birthday!” said a guy I bumped into in the street. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, and before I knew it, I was babbling out my 60-Cups-of-Tea idea, testing how it sounded when I said it out loud. He pounced immediately.

“I’ll be your guinea pig!” he said, and just a few days later, I was sitting in his garden in the sunshine, sharing a pot of fresh mint tea with homemade honey and semolina cake. We chatted for almost two whole hours.

“You know,” he confessed as I got up to leave, “Before you arrived, I told myself I’d hold my cards close to my chest… but I’ve told you everything – and really enjoyed it!”

At that moment, I knew I was on to a winning formula. I walked home feeling uplifted already.

From there, it just got better and better. I bounced from cup of tea to cup of tea, getting braver and braver about who I asked.

A Buddhist nun at a Buddhist temple.

The boss who fired me in my 20s.

A truck driver at a truck stop.

My hairdresser. We’ve only shared the tiniest of talk in the salon up until now.

Two street performers I encountered in the city centre.

By Cup of Tea No. 6, I was getting invites. Word was out.

“Would you have a cup of tea with me on the beach in front of my house?” messaged a woman I barely knew. She lived on a tiny, isolated peninsula cut off by the tide for hours every day. Absolutely, I would!

Part of the fun of this was mixing up where or how I had these cups of tea: I drank it up in a tree, wearing tutus, cruising on a houseboat up the canal, sitting in comfortable velvet armchairs on the edge of a cliff.

And suddenly I’m exploding with the possibilities of who I could ask.

I wonder who the artist of that painting I love on my living room wall is? Let’s track them down!

How about that man I see out my window every day in his thobe on his way to prayer at the local mosque?

Why not ask my 96-year-old father-in-law? I’ve never had a proper one-to-one chat with him – quite bizarre when you consider that he produced 50% of my husband and I produced 50% of his grandchildren.

Didn’t that man I was introduced to the other day say he worked at the mortuary at the hospital? Let’s stare death in the eye with him. After all, that’s almost certainly where I’m going to end up.

Cup of Tea No.15 was with an ex-boyfriend I hadn’t seen for over 30 years – and he told me that he was coming dressed as a woman. He and I were together for three years at university in the ’80s. His cross-dressing, which had been secret back then (I’d only discovered it when I came home unexpectedly early from a lecture and caught him in my clothes and make-up) was, without doubt, a catalyst in our break-up.

I’m so pleased that he can now openly present as a woman when he wants to, but I find the thought of meeting him as a female mind-boggling and nerve-wracking nonetheless.

This person who sat down opposite me was unrecognisable. Then I caught that familiar, super-cheeky grin, and we relaxed into sharing memories – memories that belong only to us.

I’ve often thought how sad it is that we often never again get the chance to see someone from our past we loved intensely, someone we chose to share a precious chunk of our life with. I’m so happy we’ve had this opportunity to reminisce and reconnect. I think I’ve made a new girlfriend.

And the cups of tea just kept coming.

An old friend I haven’t seen for years who is now sober.

An anti-female genital mutilation activist.

They were such big characters in my childhood, yet as adults, we’d only really seen each other at funerals. We recaptured the sleepovers we had as kids by having our cup of tea in pyjamas on the bed!

When I went on holiday to Thailand to reunite with my 18-year-old daughter, who had just finished three months of voluntary work there, I had a cup of tea with her at a tea plantation.

Over the best green tea we’d ever tasted, she started to reflect on the experience she’d just had, but was soon opening up to me about her childhood, her romantic relationships and her dreams. I realised how rarely we’d have such an honest conversation, because so rarely do I listen without a part of me wanting to pounce in with parental advice or opinion.

I realised how many times I must have stifled her with that you’ll-understand-when-you’re-older undertone.

“Ask me more questions!” she said at the end. A similar thing happened when I had a cup of tea with my 25-year-old son. The conversation cut through the mother-son dynamic we’d been stuck in since he left home at 18.

And I realised how much I’d “fossilised” him – automatically assuming I knew and understood him just because he was my son. I’m so glad I had that chance to tune into how he’s changed and catch up with who he has become.

Without exception, every single cup of tea was wonderful – and the people I invited seemed to enjoy it as much as me.

“Thank you. That really made me have a good think about things,” said one person.

“That felt like therapy!” said someone else.

“Such small prompts to such big conversations!” another told me.

Indeed, the tea-themed questions unlocked more than I could have imagined. The stories poured out – sometimes heart-warming, sometimes heart-breaking.

Climbing into bed with their mum and dad on a Saturday morning and feeling special because they were allowed tiny sips of their tea.

Always dreaming of treating their mum to a posh afternoon tea in London when they grew up but never getting to. She died before they grew up.

Having to keep their Sunday afternoon cups of tea at a department store with their grandad secret because he always brought along his mistress.

Sitting up a tree with their friends drinking tea and watching the sun rise at the end of university, so full of joy and optimism for the future.

Marrying a woman because the morning after the first night they slept together, they discovered she was the only person to ever make them a cup of tea exactly as they liked it.

Feeling soothed and touched by the flask of tea that a hotel receptionist in China brought to their room when they were anxious and exhausted with their newly adopted baby.

Writing the words of their wife’s obituary after she died by suicide: “I will forever love you. Rest in peace and we’ll meet again. Have a cup of tea waiting for me.”

Tea, it seems, really is tangled up with our lives.

On a weekend trip to Zagreb, I was excited to sit down and share a cup of tea with the creator of the Museum of Broken Relationships, somewhere I’d wanted to go for a very long time.

As we parted, she told me she’d been thinking about having a slogan printed on the takeaway cups in the museum cafe, something jokey like HOW ABOUT CAKE? However, after our chat, she wondered if an open invitation like WOULD YOU LIKE TO SHARE A CUP OF TEA WITH ME? might be better – something to nudge people to take the risk of reaching out to someone new.

“An unexpected encounter between two humans, sharing something intimate – that’s when magic happens,” she told me.

My 57 cups of tea (only three to go!) have worked their spell on me for sure. I’m full to bursting with the warmth and joy of human-to-human connection, and my confidence has bounced right back.

I’ve learned that it’s never too late to make new friends, reignite old ones and strengthen – or adjust – the relationships you already have. And I now know that even if I can’t stop my age from making me less visible, I don’t need to let that stop me from being brave, curious and playful.

I’m going into my 60s full blast after all.

Claire Potter is an author of parenting books and children’s picture books. Her online program, Tiny Bites, leads parents through a three-step process to turn their child from a picky to an unpicky eater. You can see all the cups of tea she’s done at Sixty Cups of Tea.

Do you have a compelling personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost? Find out what we’re looking for here and send us a pitch at pitch@huffpost.com.

When you think about insomnia, do you imagine someone tossing and turning late at night, unable to fall sleep?

While that can happen, it only describes one iteration of the condition: sleep onset insomnia. Some research suggests that people with sleep onset insomnia are likely to have another sleep issue, like restless leg syndrome.

But there are other types of insomnia too, including one which makes people wake very early in the morning and stay up for hours after the disruption.

This is called terminal insomnia, also known as middle of the night insomnia, late insomnia, postdormitional insomnia, or sleep offset insomnia.

Per the University of Pennsylvania (UP), this happens when you wake up too early and aren’t able to fall asleep again.

Those with the condition usually get up hours before their set waking time. It’s common among older adults, who may face 4am wake-ups, a 2012 paper suggested.

UP pointed to some research that suggests this is a heritable trait (one you can get from your parents), though we can’t say for sure whether that’s definitely the case.

Ohio State University’s (OHU) Health & Discovery page added that terminal insomnia might happen due to our natural sleep-wake cycles, too.

“One likely explanation for waking up at the same time each night is that you go to sleep at the same time and then, at the same time each night, you reach a light stage of sleep and wake up,” they wrote.

Ageing may be another factor. The afforementioned 2012 paper reads, “older adults experience insomnia coupled with early morning awakenings due to an interaction between age-related changes in circadian rhythm timing coupled with behaviour changes that contribute to sustained poor sleep”.

Terminal insomnia might also be caused, or worsened, by:

• depression,
• anxiety,
• sleep apnoea,
• menopause,
• thyroid issues,
• acid reflux,
• hormones,
• fluctuating blood sugar levels.

It’s relatively normal to wake up in the middle of the night, OHU said. But it’s also expected that most people will be “able to return to sleep with little effort”.

If you’re waking up and unable to fall back asleep at least three nights a week, for at least three months, and if it negatively affects your daytime functionality, you have chronic insomnia.

Keep a sleep journal if you’re not sure whether this describes you.

Some lifestyle tweaks might make terminal insomnia less likely. These include keeping a regular sleep schedule, getting enough exercise in the day, avoiding caffeine and alcohol later in the day, and keeping your bedroom cool and dark.

The NHS advised speaking to your GP if your symptoms have been going on for months, if changing your lifestyle habits hasn’t affected your insomnia, and/or if it’s affecting your daily life in a way that makes it hard to cope.

If you suspect you might have another condition that’s causing your sleep issues, see your doctor sooner.

Over the last decade, intimacy co-ordinators have become increasingly commonplace on the sets of TV shows and films, helping actors and directors navigate scenes involving sex or nudity, which might put them in vulnerable situations.

These co-ordinators became more prevalent in the 2010s, in light of the Me Too movement, which saw women calling out the industry-wide harassment, misconduct and abuse that had gone unchecked for decades prior.

While these are crew members who traditionally stay in the background, in Lena Headey’s new series Intimacy, she’s dragging the subject right to the forefront.

In the eight-part BBC Sounds audio drama – which she also directed and wrote – Lena portrays Liza Simmons, a former actor who has taken a step back from the industry after a troubling experience, to retrain as a therapist and, later, an intimacy co-ordinator.

However, when working on a new project, Liza is unexpectedly reunited with a figure from her past, causing her to spiral over big questions about herself, her beliefs and her own integrity.

Speaking to HuffPost UK ahead of the series’ release, Lena admits that her own experience with intimacy co-ordinators had been rather limited before she began work on the show.

Or, as she puts it: “I’m so ancient that I never experienced one in my sort of heyday, when people wanted to see me naked. So, now they don’t anymore, I’m safe.

“Back in the day, there weren’t any. And there was no talk of any – so you just got on with it.”

“Looking back,” she says, “we’re like, ‘what?!’. I mean, I was thrown to the wolves. But it’s given me a resolve to get through most things at work. Now, I just think, ‘oh fuck off’, and I speak my mind.”

She laments: “But when you’re young and vulnerable and kind of new, you just say ‘yes’ most of the time.”

Perhaps surprisingly, given their work is primarily intended to keep performers safe in their workplace, not all actors have been on board with the presence of intimacy co-ordinators since the role became more widespread in the industry.

Sir Ian McKellen and Lena’s fellow Game Of Thrones alum Sean Bean both raised eyebrows when they questioned whether the use of an intimacy co-ordinator “spoiled” the spontaneity between two actors while shooting love scenes, with Toni Collette, Mikey Madison and Gwyneth Paltrow among those who have turned down the chance to work with one in their recent projects.

Gwyneth controversially claimed last year that she’d told one such co-ordinator on the set of Marty Supreme: “Girl, I’m from the era where you get naked, you get in bed, the camera’s on. I think we’re good. You can step a little bit back.”

“I don’t know how it is for kids who are starting out, but… if someone is like, ’OK, and then he’s going to put his hand here’… I would feel, as an artist, very stifled by that,” she claimed during an interview with Vanity Fair.

On the other hand, Jane Fonda, Kate Winslet and Florence Pugh have all voiced that they wish there’d been intimacy co-ordinators on film sets when they were starting out in their careers.

Dame Emma Thompson has also become a staunch defender of them in the last few years, insisting it was “absolutely essential” that young women starting out in their acting careers should have “someone there to protect them”.

For Lena – who, as she puts it, is “straddling two generations” of actors – she admits the debate is an “interesting one”.

“I appreciate the value of a co-ordinator,” she insists, pointing out that in the early stages of her career, she mostly just went along with whatever she was told when it came to intimate scenes.

“Now, if I have a scene – which, as I say, is rare, because everyone is like ‘keep your clothes on’ – I’m kind of like a big bad wolf,” she quips. “I know what I want, I know what I want to do, I know how to speak to other actors and to get a director to listen to what we need.”

“Like anything, if they’re great at their job, it’s wonderful, and it adds value,” she says of intimacy co-ordinators. “I think you can have terrible ones who just make you feel more awkward.

“If you have two actors who are in their 50s or 60s, who are comfortable, who know each other, and there’s no kind of weirdness, then you can kind of dance it yourself.”

She notes: “It’s even kind of a language thing. If you’ve got a director who just like… doesn’t have a handle on kind of intimate language or emotional language, if a co-ordinator is great at their job, they kind of translate, gently, what somebody is after.”

The main benefit of an intimacy co-ordinator, she believes, is for the “younger” generation of actors, who she admits feeling “very protective towards”.

“Now we have [intimacy co-ordinators], so… unless your director is a hideous knob, then you’re kind of covered,” Lena suggests.

“Most directors will ask for more than they need, in terms of nudity – so, to have someone who’s like, ‘nah, you don’t need that’, is great.”

“Listen,” she continues. “I got my whole back tattooed at one point, because I was like, ‘at least then they’re going to have to ask me to go to makeup [before doing a sex scene]’, and I’ll say, ‘that’s going to be eight hours’.”

“That was quite a drastic measure,” she acknowledges. “But there weren’t any co-ordinators. So I used ink.”

Lena quickly clarifies that she did already want her tattoos, and “enjoys getting them” (“that’s another story,” she claims). “But yes,” she recalls. “I was like, ’at least if I do this, and they go, ‘can we see a full nude back?’, I could say, ‘you can, but I don’t think in the 19th century they would have had these’.”

As part of her research while writing Intimacy, Lena says she interviewed multiple co-ordinators, including one who would eventually become the series’ own go-to for sex scenes.

“We had some kind of sex scenes in the podcast, so we had to have somebody there,” Lena explains. “Even though it was all audio – and no one was touching anybody – we were making noises and kind of thrusting ourselves around a studio. So, you know, we were covered.”

Of course, the role that Lena is most recognisable for is her eight-season stint in Game Of Thrones, the award-winning fantasy series that was infamous for pushing the boundaries when it came to graphic content, whether that was murder or, indeed, sex and nudity.

While intimacy co-ordinators are now part of the team on the Game Of Thrones spin-off House Of The Dragon, the original show concluded at a time when the roles were not yet popular.

Asked whether an intimacy co-ordinator might have changed things behind the scenes of Game Of Thrones, Lena notes: “There were three girls on that and it was their first job. And there was a lot of sex, and a lot of nudity. I don’t know their personal experiences on that, I’m sure some of it was really fucking rough.

“So, I think yes, that would have helped greatly – to just have this kind of interpreter who can walk the line between an actor and a director, and listen, and take things [to a director] that an actor may not be comfortable saying, because you don’t want to lose your job, and you don’t want to be judged, and you want to appear to be willing and able and happy to do the things.

“You know, you’re not necessarily going to want to say that to the person who holds your life in their hands.”

During her stint playing Cersei in Game Of Thrones, Lena was involved in numerous explicit scenes. One in particular, the infamous “walk of shame”, saw her character being paraded through the streets nude while being pelted and verbally assaulted by those she passed.

She recalls the “outrage” that came about when it emerged that she’d used a body double to convey Cersei’s nudity, saying: “It was three days of me walking naked, shooting this emotional scene, with extras who had seen the show, and loved the show. It was just weird. It was like walking through ravenous fans.

“Doing that naked would have just made me so aware of people, rather than being in my performance. Having the two of us [herself and a nude body double] do it was obviously just a smarter, more emotional, and easier way for me to do it as an actor.”

“Maybe having somebody there” might have changed things, she claims, but adds that body double Rebecca Van Cleave was “fully on board”, “committed” and “brilliant”.

“We talked about everything, I was there for her, she was there for me,” she notes. “You’d have to speak to her, I guess, about her experience.”

For the most part, though, she looks back fondly at Game Of Thrones – and, in particular, her time as Cersei.

“I loved playing her,” she beams. “It was such a joy to get to play somebody that deep, I guess. They wrote for her wonderfully. Such juicy dialogue and intention throughout the show.”

“I’m just proud to have been a part of that show,” Lena continues, noting that it now feels like it was “a million years ago”.

“Obviously, it wasn’t perfect, but what is? We just keep learning. But I think it was beautifully written, and we all dug each other, so it worked.”

She adds, knowingly: “I think everyone wants dirt on it, but actually, it was pretty wonderful – for the most part.”

Naturally, any conversation about Game Of Thrones inevitably turns to its infamous finale, which continues to divide opinion to this day, and for which the reaction from fans was particularly out of control when it first aired in 2019.

“I mean, the fans’ reactions were always out of control, which was what was delightful about it, the sort of appetite and loyalty,” Lena says.

“You know, I think we’ve all spoken about the finale a million times, and I think, when you invest nearly 10 years of your life into something, believing that there is a direction and a path that makes sense emotionally, and then suddenly it’s cut short, and you feel underserved, then yeah, it’s a bummer. But it is what it is. It’s in the past.

“It’s an amazing thing to have been a part of, and I don’t just say this as lip service, I am forever grateful for that, to get to play her.”

(She is still in her feelings about how things turned out for Cersei, though, admitting: “That’s still rough.”)

If anyone needed proof that Game Of Thrones still holds a special place in Lena’s heart, they could look no further than the cast of Intimacy, where two of her former co-stars, Hannah Waddingham and Maisie Williams, play key roles.

Hannah, who voices the main character’s agent in Intimacy, has ascended to bona fide national treasure status since Game Of Thrones’ ending, which Lena says she’s been “thrilled” to witness.

“I loved her from the minute we met,” she enthuses. “We bonded, we’re a similar age, we have similar stories. And she is who she is. That’s why everyone’s in love with her.”

Lena adds that it’s been “brilliant” to watch Hannah’s career go from strength to strength off the back of her Emmy-winning work in Ted Lasso, sharing: “It’s funny, the rare occasion we find to meet up now, everyone asks me to take their photo with her, which gives me great joy. And no one really knows [me]! Everyone’s just like, ‘can you just…?’, and I’m like, ‘sure!’.

“It just shows you in this business everything [changes]. Nothing’s ever guaranteed or steady. It’s funny, people kind of think, ‘oh you’ve made it’, and you’re like, ‘nah, you just float for a minute, and then you go back down – and then you kind of find some air, and then you go back down again’. That’s the cycle of this mad industry.”

Maisie’s character, meanwhile, was written especially for her, with Lena thinking of her co-star to play a young actor in the audio series because “she’s so wonderful and quirky and smart and funny, and her voice just has this thing”.

“That was the challenge of [working with] audio,” she admits. “I’m a super visual writer, so this took a year to write, and it was constant. And I had great notes, and annoying notes, and helpful notes that I didn’t want to believe were helpful because they just irritated me. But, you know, creating something only to be ear pleasure, as opposed to just viewing it, it’s really fucking challenging.

“So, to have these voices that I love, and to be able to work with people that I love, yeah, of course, that’s part of the joy of creating something.”

As she mentions, Intimacy was Lena’s first time creating something specifically to be enjoyed as an audio podcast, admitting that “opportunity” was the main reason it became her medium of choice.

“I’m constantly writing, and it is really brutal out there to get anything made right now,” she admits. “Like, the industry is changing, changing. It’s having this shift. Everything is up in the air. So, to create an IP makes the future of something easier.

“To have an opportunity to write a podcast was sort of daunting for me as a writer, because you’re just in one realm. You can’t go, ‘oh we’re going to cut to this and see this moment’. It’s all just audio.

“It’s kind of gorgeous when you get it right. But the developing of it is like… you want to smash your face against the window.”

Helping matters when it came to making Intimacy was the fact that the actors recorded their dialogue together in person wearing head mics, rather than being “stuck” in a recording booth “reading from a bit of paper’.

“So, you could really move,” she explains. “It was like theatre, but without anyone watching, so that was really lovely. You could look people in the eye.

“And that gives Intimacy this feeling. I think you feel it as a listener. You feel the movement and the kind of interaction between people. It was challenging, and then it became fun and interesting to do.”

“But I still prefer filming something,” she confesses.

Difficult though it might be for anyone to get new projects off the ground in the entertainment industry, it’s even tougher for female creatives, as Lena chose to explicitly acknowledge in Industry’s script: “There’s a moment where I say to Hannah’s character, ‘is it going to be a female director?’, and she laughs and says, ‘no, no, no, the budget’s too high for that’.

“Listen: straight, male voices in our industry are undoubtedly the loudest, and the most heard. That is just a given. And I don’t think that has changed,” she continues.

“Obviously, there are great allies in this world, and in this industry. Great creators, and people that listen, and are really honest, and truthful, and committed to the bigger picture of it all.

“But there are, as in everything, some folks that you’re like, ‘why? why him?’. I’m just really honest about it. I know that, when women get together, we do talk about it, and it’s just like anything that’s rough, you just make it funny. The way through is laughter.”

Her own skills as a writer and director, she says, were honed during her decades as an actor.

“I watch people front and centre, obviously, when I’m in a scene with them, and I study directors, and I look at the crew and I watch how people light something and I’m endlessly fascinated by the whole process,” she explains. “That excites me and flips my brain. Like, it’s just full and happy. So yeah, I think I’ve been at a good university for 35 years.”

When it comes to choosing her projects post-Game Of Thrones, Lena says, she’s “always looking for something – something different or something that I haven’t explored”, which is what has led to her turning to directing and writing, as well as performing.

“It’s a crazy thing, because it’s like, you do that show, you go on to do other things, they don’t work, they’re failures, but that’s just part of what we do,” she says. “You know, not everything is going to have the magic ingredients.

“So, I think that’s what I look for more than anything. You’re like, ‘let’s try this recipe’, and maybe that’s a fuck-up, or it tastes kind of disgusting. And then you go onto the next – you just keep trying, you can’t give up.”

With her latest audio offering, she adds that she just wants “people to really giggle and to feel sort of seen”.

“Everybody forgets… when, in this world, somebody is a little bit mean or a bit shit, everybody is carrying something we don’t see. I know that sounds cheesy and it should be on a t-shirt, but I don’t care, because it’s true,” she says with a laugh.

“With Intimacy, you’re going into this world where a million people are just juggling a million things, and it’s human mess. I just wanted to write something that felt real and touchable and fun to listen to. And champion this character for a few episodes.”

Intimacy is available to listen to on BBC Sounds from Wednesday 22 July. Episodes will also air weekly at 11pm on BBC Radio 4 from Monday 27 July.

If 2023 was the year of “girl dinners” – a selection of picky bits from the cupboard and fridge that you don’t have to cook – 2026 is the year of boy kibble.

TikTok’s latest food obsession is basically a dish made up of mince and rice, with the occasional addition of eggs or veggies to add a bit more flavour (and fibre) to the dish. Someone described it as a meal you’d give your pug, which does go some way to help explain the name.

It’s become the meal of choice for some, particularly younger men, who want to easily (and cheaply) cram carbs and protein into their diet to aid their fitness goals.

But what does routinely eating a dish like this mean for teen development, especially in the age of looksmaxxing? (For those not chronically online, looksmaxxing is all about the improvement of your physical appearance, commonly through a number of practices which range in intensity and severity – from using skincare and hitting the gym to undergoing surgery and even taking a hammer to the face.)

“The individual ingredients in ‘boy kibble’ aren’t a problem in themselves,” Charlotte Stirling-Reed, The Baby & Child Nutritionist, told HuffPost UK.

“Beef mince provides protein, iron, zinc and B vitamins, rice gives you starchy carbohydrates, and if eggs and vegetables are added too, it’s actually quite a balanced, nutritious meal.”

However, as with anything, moderation is key – and if teens overdo this dish or start relying on it every day, this could be a cause for concern.

“Balanced eating is about all the variety one can eat across the whole day and even across a few weeks,” said Stirling-Reed.

“If a child is eating beef and rice every day, they may miss out on the nutrients that come from other protein sources, such as fish, beans, lentils, eggs, tofu and poultry.

“Additionally, they’d be missing out on the wide range of nutrients such as polyphenols, fibre and also fluid from a variety of fruits, veggies, beans, legumes and nuts and seeds, too.”

The lack of fibre is a concern for paediatrician Dr Madison Szar, too. She told Parents that a dish of solely mince and rice can put teens at risk of constipation, and doesn’t support a healthy microbiome.

Another key consideration is that beef is a red meat – and current NHS guidance for adults advises that those eating more than 90g of red or processed meat per day should reduce this to an average of no more than 70g per day, due to links with bowel cancer.

“While there are no specific UK red meat limits for children, NHS healthy eating guidance encourages variety, including a range of protein foods such as beans, pulses, fish, eggs and meat,” Stirling-Reed continued.

“A large serving (or a few servings) of beef mince every day could mean they’re getting more red meat overall, and potentially more saturated fat too, depending on the type of mince used.”

There’s also the protein levels to consider. The average service of beef mince contains about 20g protein. The nutritionist pointed to UK data showing children already tend to exceed their protein requirements.

“So the idea that boys need to ‘load up’ on extra protein isn’t necessary or supported by the evidence,” she added.

The nutritionist ended that if kids enjoy a beef and rice dish occasionally, especially with added vegetables and egg, “that’s absolutely fine, and in fact is a nutritious, balanced meal”.

But she wouldn’t recommend it as a daily staple in place of a wide variety of other colourful, nutrient rich and beneficial foods.

Those who’ve already sat down to watch the new Netflix movie Heartstopper Forever might have been surprised to see a new addition to the cast.

Oscar winner Olivia Colman previously received widespread praise for her portrayal of Nick’s mum, Sarah Nelson, in the first two seasons of the popular teen drama.

However, in its third iteration, she was unable to appear, with Hayley Atwell instead appearing as Nick’s aunt, who served a maternal role in his life for these episodes.

In the new film, meanwhile, the role of Sarah has been completely recast, again due to Olivia’s unavailability.

In her absence, the role is now be played by Line Of Duty and Motherland star Anna Maxwell Martin.

Heartstopper creator Alice Oseman told Netflix’s Tudum back in April: “When beginning to work on the Heartstopper Forever screenplay, I knew how important it was that Sarah, Nick’s mum, appeared in the story.

“Since season one, we have seen how close Nick is with his mum; she’s one of the few people he can turn to in moments of crisis. While in season three, we were able to tweak the story to avoid any appearance of Sarah, it felt nonsensical for her to be absent from this final chapter, given some of the emotional struggles Nick faces.”

They continued: “Sadly, Olivia Colman was not able to join us for the film, so we made the very difficult decision to recast the role, rather than exclude the character.

“We are deeply grateful for Olivia’s beautiful performance as Sarah in seasons one and two of Heartstopper, through such iconic moments as Nick coming out as bisexual, and we know that her performance will live on in the hearts of every Heartstopper fan.”

Oseman added: “We are overjoyed to welcome the incredible Anna Maxwell Martin into the role of Sarah for Heartstopper Forever. Anna perfectly embodies Sarah’s gentle, down-to-earth energy, and it was magical to witness her scenes with Kit Connor during the film shoot. I can’t wait for Heartstopper fans to experience her interpretation of Sarah Nelson.”

Heartstopper Forever is now streaming on Netflix, serving as the final outing for Nick and Charlie, played by Kit Connor and Joe Locke. Check out HuffPost UK’s review of the film here.

What we eat could affect how long we live. Some research suggests that UK adults could enjoy 10 extra years of longevity by switching to a diet higher in whole grains, nuts, and fruits, and lower in sugar-sweetened beverages and processed meats, for instance.

And remarkably, one paper found that older adults’ biological age seemed to lower after four weeks by shifting the percentage of fats and carbs in their usual diets.

Biological age refers to how old a person’s tissues and organs are on a cellular level, and is different from how many years they’ve been alive (chronological age).

This study, which involved 65- to 75-year-olds, randomly assigned them to one of four diets:

• omnivorous high-fat (OHF) – 7% plant protein and 7% animal protein, 37%-41% of energy from fat, and 41%-43% carbohydrates,
• omnivorous high-carbohydrate (OHC) – 7% plant protein and 7% animal protein, 28%-29% fat, and 53% carbohydrates,
• semi-vegetarian high-fat (VHF) – about 10% plant protein and roughly 4% animal protein, 37%-41% of energy from fat, and 41%-43% carbohydrates,
• semi-vegetarian high-carbohydrate (VHC) – 28%-29% fat, and 53% carbohydrates.

The OHF group, a high-fat diet which meant participants ate all foods, reflected most of the older adults’ pre-trial diets. Following this diet didn’t lead to a reduction in biological age after the four-week intervention.

But all three of the other diets did.

The strongest evidence of benefit seemed to come from the OHC diet, in which participants ate all foods but got a lot of their energy from carbohydrates and relied less on fat.

This was close to their “normal” diet, but with less focus on fat and more on carbohydrates.

Specifically, the OHC diet was made up of 14% energy from protein, 28-29% fat, and 53% carbohydrates.

Meanwhile most participants’ usual diet outside of the study had roughly the same amount of protein, but derived 37-41% of energy from fat and 41%-43% from carbohydrates.

Associate Professor Alistair Senior, from the University of Sydney’s School of Life and Environmental Sciences and the Charles Perkins Centre, who supervised the research, said they don’t know for sure how the changes they saw in this study might play out in the long-term.

“Longer-term dietary changes are needed to assess whether dietary changes alter the risk of age-related diseases,” he explained.

Meanwhile, lead author Dr Caitlin Andrews, from the University of Sydney’s Charles Perkins Centre, added that “it’s too soon to say definitively that specific changes to diet will extend your life”.

“But this research offers an early indication of the potential benefits of dietary changes later in life,” she continued.

“Future research should explore whether these findings extend to other cohorts and whether the changes recorded are sustained or predictive of long-term outcomes.”

“You don’t need to manage my food for me all the time anymore,” said my 13-year-old son.

We were on the way home from a ski weekend with three other families. Due to the small mountain village, all the teenagers were able to enjoy an abundance of freedom over the weekend. They managed their schedules, meals and skiing as a group, with minimal parental intervention.

My boys absolutely relished their independence. They thanked me for “backing off” all weekend.

Both of my boys have managed food allergies their entire lives, so this weekend was a pivotal moment for our family. Thanks to treatment, my older son no longer has food restrictions and was able to eat safely at restaurants. My younger son, who still needed to eat the food I’d prepared in advance and brought for him, was fully capable of managing his meals without my guidance.

When they were babies, both of my sons were diagnosed with multiple, potentially life-threatening food allergies. While any single food allergy impacts daily life, my boys were on the extreme end of the scale. My older son had a mild allergic reaction to his first bite of peanut butter. Although bloodwork showed he was also allergic to all tree nuts, the impact of severity had not yet set in.

That all changed a few months later when my younger son nearly died from his first bite of banana. I will never forget the horror of watching my six-month-old baby turn purple and go lifeless from a single bite of food.

I immediately knew we were in urgent danger and took him to medical care quickly. After two rounds of epinephrine and other rescue medications, doctors saved his life.

However, mine would never be the same.

My younger son was diagnosed with more than two dozen food allergies. After years of additional testing, that list has shrunk to eight allergens. Despite constant vigilance, he had another close call when trace amounts of gluten were found in certified gluten-free chicken nuggets that he ate, causing a reaction so severe that he required four doses of epinephrine to save his life.

There is absolutely nothing worse than watching an entire emergency room staff rush to your son’s room once he arrives via ambulance, igniting the dread of your worst nightmare coming true.

Food shouldn’t cause this level of fear in a parent. But when you’ve seen it almost take your child’s life, there is no way to ignore it or even minimise it. Most parents worry about their kids getting hurt on the playground. I felt like mine were playing in the middle of a highway.

For better or for worse, this has in many ways defined my entire parenting journey. I transformed into a food expert, cooking from scratch and reading every food label.

I became a strong presence in our school as class parent and trip chaperone. I met endlessly with doctors, teachers, kitchen staff and school nurses. I developed into a respected voice of the patient, leading a local support group and working with a national nonprofit.

I leaned hard into advocacy to help my boys by creating a world around them that was more educated and empathetic. But also, I needed to feel a sense of control in what was an otherwise uncontrollable situation.

Every meeting, blog post, speech and media interview I did was always, ultimately, a pep talk to myself. My work was my life raft. The food allergy community was my support group.

Then something unexpected happened: the emergency phase… ended.

Treatment changed our lives. The reactions slowed. The fear softened. And a moment of clarity emerged: I realised I had spent more than a decade being more than a parent. I had been a full-time crisis manager.

But if I wasn’t constantly managing food allergies, who was I?

When your child has a chronic health condition, caregiving becomes more than something you do –m it becomes who you are.

Let me be clear upfront – this does not make me a “helicopter parent.” I did not cause or choose this diagnosis, and I would be grateful to not have anything “extra” to manage. But when you are responsible for not only being a parent, but also being your child’s full-time medical support, there is no way it doesn’t seep into every fibre of your being.

My children’s kryptonite was something they also needed to survive. Every meal, every snack, every treat, every holiday. Daily life meant label reading and meal prepping. Every school event, trip and celebration required thinking ahead. My work was not only the physical acts of ensuring safe and healthy food was always available for my boys, but also the psychological work of teaching them caution without creating anxiety.

Their diagnosis brought shock and denial. Endless doctor appointments led to exhaustion. Emergency room visits left behind trauma. And when you are a parent, you do your best to absorb it all so that your child doesn’t have to. Everything piles up, and nothing leaves you.

For my family, intervention with treatment was a slow and gradual shift. Oral immunotherapy requires years of daily dosing to build a tolerance. It is a different kind of vigilance and takes an enormous mental capacity to manage.

But, for my older son, it worked. And for my younger son, a medication called Xolair provides him the safety to participate in “normal” activities like eating at restaurants, spending the night with friends and travelling without worrying about a severe reaction from an accidental small ingestion of his allergen.

Two different paths that led to the same outcome: completely transformed lives.

My boys are thriving. And they have earned every second of their newfound freedom. Over the years, they’ve also learned the skills needed to manage their food allergy responsibilities on their own. They ask questions at restaurants, they read labels, they know how to cook basic meals and they always carry epinephrine.

They are also right on schedule. As teenagers, they are creating boundaries and establishing autonomy. It is age-appropriate for them to need less daily management from me. I am thrilled beyond measure that their treatment allows them to live the kind of normal, independent lives they deserve.

And at the same time, this transition feels disorienting. Food allergy treatment is life-changing, but it is not a cure. The fear is lower but not completely gone. The adrenaline has faded, but the fatigue remains. I feel like the merry-go-round has stopped, but I’ve been too dizzy to get off the ride.

For most of my boys’ lives, I’ve had to live in a constant state of readiness. Now that the urgency has lifted, I’m navigating what to do in the space it left behind. I’m realising my next chapter isn’t about letting go of caregiving. It is about expanding beyond it.

My story is about food allergies. But I believe it’s a universal thread in parenting. Chronic health issue or not, all children grow up. If we are doing our jobs correctly, they need us less and less. We want that autonomy and freedom for them. We want that autonomy and freedom for ourselves.

Despite growing up with a medical threat, neither of my boys feel defined by their food allergies. They’ve lived childhoods filled with school, sports, friends and delicious food. Their struggles have created social awareness and flexible resilience at tender young ages. I am so proud of them.

As a family, we did not let food allergies get in our way. We have gone on travel adventures, celebrated beautiful holidays and purposefully pursued joy. But while our family looked “normal” from the outside, I always felt like a duck that was peaceful above water but furiously paddling just under the surface to move forward.

My boys’ food allergies didn’t define me, but they did define a lot of my physical time and mental space. For so long, my energy went outward – to doctors, labels, schools, safety plans.

But when my son so innocently said that he didn’t need me to manage his food anymore, my brain suddenly snapped to attention. Of course my boys don’t need me to monitor every bite anymore – they’re teenagers.

We have spent their entire lives educating them and preparing them to not only be independent, as all parents do, but also to pay extra attention to their own health needs. I had done my job teaching them to advocate for themselves. And now I needed to advocate for myself.

I’m realising I have more time in my day and more space in my head. I’m choosing to care for myself through this transition just as I would care for a dear friend in need.

While I have always modelled exercise and a healthy lifestyle for my boys, I’m returning to my first true love, dancing. When I go to a studio and dance in a dark room with loud music, I get out of my head and into my body.

I’m saying yes to more date nights with my husband and quality time with my friends. I’m taking an online nutrition course that I find fascinating. I’m taking long walks with my beloved dogs. Honouring my soul feels good.

Professionally, I’ve gained an impactful list of skills during this chapter of my life. Caregiving required me to become fluent in resilience, medical literacy, communication, advocacy, empathy, high-stakes decision-making and crisis navigation.

Over the past 13 years, I’ve utilised my experience to empower other families facing challenges like mine via nonprofit, media and fundraising efforts. I absolutely love my work, and I am truly proud of it. But I’m now recognising, with more time and a deeper perspective, I can spread my wings.

The lessons learned and skills earned can help me empower a broader audience. All parents will feel this shift in one form or another. Life is always evolving after all, and roles change as children grow and launch out of the nest. I feel passionate about focusing on caregiver advocacy – for parents managing food allergies or other chronic medical needs, but also for those navigating major life transitions.

Not only did food allergies alter my children’s lives, but they also transformed mine. Although I still carry some of the trauma, the experience has made me stronger. I am giving myself grace to relinquish control – not only over every bite that my boys eat, but also over what my next chapter looks like.

After years of being a crisis manager, I’m allowing myself time to process my journey, accepting that the mixed feelings of relief, uncertainty and pride are normal.

So, who am I when the crisis is over? I’m still a food allergy mom. I still carry epinephrine and read labels. But I’m also stepping into a new season – one where I can celebrate how far my family has come and look ahead to what’s next with less fear.

Hillary Tolle Carter is a writer and caregiver advocate with over two decades of experience in media, public relations, and advocacy across agency, corporate, and nonprofit sectors. A trusted “voice of the patient,” Hillary has appeared in more than 60 national and local media interviews, articles, educational videos, and events. As a contributing writer for WebMD, she empowers families facing the challenges of managing food allergies. Her work centers on helping caregivers move through and beyond seasons of crisis. You can find her at hillarytollecarter.com and @hillarytollecarter.

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