Chlorophyll: The Green-Drops Trend vs Plant Biology

The video is oddly hypnotic: a dropper hovers over a glass of water, releases a ribbon of ink-dark green, and the whole thing swirls into something that looks like bottled springtime. Hundreds of millions of views later, liquid chlorophyll has become one of the most searched supplements on the internet, promoted as a fix for acne, odor, energy, even body fat.

Here’s the strange part. Chlorophyll has a real, well-documented job, and it’s spectacular, just not in your body. It’s the molecule that lets a spinach leaf turn sunlight into sugar. Humans, lacking leaves, have no photosynthetic machinery to plug it into.

So what happens when you drink it anyway? The honest answer involves stomach acid, a landmark study from rural China, a copper atom standing in for magnesium, and a gap between plant biology and wellness marketing that’s wider than most bottles admit.

What is chlorophyll, and why do plants need it?

Every green thing you’ve ever eaten owes its color to one family of molecules. Chlorophyll sits inside chloroplasts, the tiny solar panels of plant cells, where it absorbs red and blue wavelengths of light and reflects green ones back at your eyes. That captured light energy drives photosynthesis, the reaction that turns carbon dioxide and water into the sugars a plant lives on, releasing oxygen as a byproduct.

Chemically, chlorophyll is a porphyrin: a flat ring of atoms with a single magnesium ion held at its center, plus a long fatty tail that anchors it in the plant’s membranes. Plants make two main versions, chlorophyll a and chlorophyll b, which absorb slightly different slices of the light spectrum so leaves waste as little sunshine as possible.

It’s elegant machinery, and entirely plant machinery. Your cells don’t photosynthesize. When chlorophyll enters a human body, it’s not a battery waiting to be plugged in; it’s a pigment heading into a digestive tract full of acid and enzymes that begin dismantling it almost immediately. Much of the natural molecule is converted in the stomach to a related compound called pheophytin, and only a small fraction is absorbed intact.

None of this makes chlorophyll worthless to eat. It means the interesting question isn’t “what does chlorophyll do for plants?” but “what, if anything, survives the trip through you, and does it matter?” That’s where the science gets more modest, and more interesting, than the marketing.

What's actually in a bottle of liquid chlorophyll?

Read the fine print on most green drops and you’ll find a molecule the plant never made: sodium copper chlorophyllin. Natural chlorophyll is fat-soluble, fragile, and degrades quickly in light, heat, and acid: a nightmare to bottle. So manufacturers modify it, stripping the fatty tail and swapping the central magnesium atom for copper. The result, chlorophyllin, is water-soluble, shelf-stable, and vividly green.

This isn’t a scandal; it’s chemistry. But it matters for two reasons.

• The evidence question. Nearly all of the human research behind “chlorophyll benefits”, including the best-known detox study, was done with chlorophyllin, not the pigment in a kale leaf. When a label borrows a leaf’s reputation, it’s borrowing credit earned by a different molecule.
• The absorption question. Because chlorophyllin dissolves in water, more of it appears to survive digestion than natural chlorophyll does. What your body then does with it is far less mapped out. Dietary supplements, unlike medicines, are not reviewed for effectiveness before they’re sold, and independent testing has found that green products vary widely in what they actually contain.

There’s a useful mental swap here: when you hear “liquid chlorophyll,” think “chlorophyllin drops.” It keeps expectations honest. The bottle is not a compressed salad. It’s one semi-synthetic pigment, minus every fiber strand, folate molecule, and carotenoid that travels alongside chlorophyll in an actual vegetable: a distinction that will come up again and again below.

What will happen if I take chlorophyll every day?

Probably less than the videos suggest, in both directions. Based on what’s documented, a daily habit of chlorophyllin drops most reliably produces cosmetic changes: green-tinged stool, sometimes a green cast to the tongue or urine. Some people notice mild digestive upset, loose stools, cramping, occasional nausea, especially at first.

What you likely won’t notice is the dramatic transformation the trend promises. There are no rigorous trials showing that daily chlorophyllin clears skin in most people, melts fat, boosts energy, or purifies blood. Chlorophyllin does show antioxidant activity in laboratory studies, meaning it can neutralize unstable molecules called free radicals in a test tube. But as MedlinePlus notes about antioxidants generally, promising lab results have repeatedly failed to translate into proven benefits when isolated compounds are taken as supplements: the track record belongs to antioxidant-rich foods, not extracts.

One genuine daily benefit hides in plain sight: the water. Many people who start a chlorophyll habit go from sipping nothing all morning to finishing a tall glass of water before noon. Better hydration can improve how you feel, headaches, energy, digestion, and the green swirl gets the credit.

The longer-term picture is simply unmapped. There are no large studies following healthy people who take chlorophyllin for years, which is worth sitting with. “No evidence of harm” and “evidence of no harm” are different sentences, and daily-use trends tend to blur them.

Does chlorophyll detox your body? Here's what the famous study really found

The detox claim isn’t invented from nothing: it’s stretched from something real. In 2001, researchers published a randomized trial from Qidong, China, a region where the local food supply was heavily contaminated with aflatoxin, a mold toxin strongly linked to liver cancer. Residents who took chlorophyllin with meals for four months showed roughly 55 percent lower levels of aflatoxin–DNA adducts, a urinary biomarker of DNA damage, compared with placebo.

The proposed mechanism is genuinely clever: chlorophyllin’s flat ring structure appears to physically bind aflatoxin in the gut, acting like molecular flypaper so less toxin gets absorbed. It’s one of the more elegant findings in nutrition science.

Now the honest caveats, which the wellness version always drops:

• It measured a biomarker, not cancer outcomes. Lower adduct levels are encouraging, but the trial did not, and could not, prove fewer cancers.
• It studied people with extreme, unavoidable toxin exposure. If your food supply isn’t contaminated with aflatoxin, there’s no flypaper scenario to replicate.
• Binding a specific mold toxin in the intestine is not “detoxing.” It says nothing about alcohol, pollution, processed food, or the vague “toxins” of Instagram captions.

Meanwhile, you already own a detoxification system. Your liver chemically transforms unwanted compounds and your kidneys filter and excrete them, continuously, without a subscription. The Qidong trial deserves respect as science. It deserves skepticism as a sales pitch.

Does chlorophyll help you lose belly fat?

No supplement targets belly fat, and chlorophyll drops are no exception. Where your body stores and releases fat is governed by genetics, hormones, age, and overall energy balance, not by the color of your drink. “Spot reduction” has been tested many times in exercise science and reliably fails; there’s no reason a pigment would succeed where targeted crunches don’t.

The claim usually traces back to a small Swedish study in which women who took an extract of thylakoidsthe entire green membrane structure from spinach, containing chlorophyll plus many proteins and fats, reported reduced cravings and lost modestly more weight than a control group over several months. Interesting, but note the sleight of hand: thylakoid extract is a whole membrane preparation, not chlorophyllin drops. Citing that study to sell liquid chlorophyll is like citing a study of whole oranges to sell orange food coloring.

Here’s the version of the claim that survives scrutiny: green drinks can support weight management indirectly, by displacement. A glass of water with chlorophyll drops contains close to zero calories. If it replaces a 150-calorie soda every afternoon, that swap, repeated daily, is meaningful over a year. The drops aren’t doing anything metabolic; the substitution is.

And if the underlying goal is a healthier body composition, the evidence points stubbornly back to fundamentals: vegetables and fiber that fill you up for few calories, adequate protein, sleep, and movement you’ll actually repeat. A dropper can decorate that plan. It can’t replace it.

What does chlorophyll do for females?

The marketing for green drops skews heavily toward women, glowing skin, “hormone balance,” lighter periods, less bloating. The evidence base does not. There are no credible clinical trials showing that chlorophyll or chlorophyllin affects estrogen, progesterone, menstrual symptoms, menopause, or any other aspect of female physiology. “Hormone balancing” is a marketing phrase, not a measurable outcome; hormones fluctuate by design, and no pigment steers them.

What women often are reaching for when they buy chlorophyll is real, though, and it lives in the vegetables the drops imitate:

• Folate. Leafy greens are a leading food source of this B vitamin, which is especially important before and during early pregnancy for the baby’s neural development. Chlorophyllin drops contain none.
• Iron. Women lose iron through menstruation, and low iron is a common cause of fatigue. Greens supply non-heme iron (absorbed better alongside vitamin C-rich foods). The drops don’t, despite the persistent myth, chlorophyll’s central atom is magnesium, and chlorophyllin’s is copper. Neither is iron.
• Calcium and vitamin K, both relevant to long-term bone health, both abundant in dark greens, both absent from the bottle.

If fatigue, heavy periods, or skin changes are driving the search, those are worth an actual conversation with a clinician and, where appropriate, a blood test, because self-treating a suspected deficiency with a pigment that doesn’t contain the missing nutrient delays the fix.

For women, the honest headline is this: everything chlorophyll supposedly does, the leafy green does better, with receipts.

Does chlorophyll help pH balance? Your body already handled that

Of all the green-drop claims, this one collides hardest with basic physiology. Your blood pH is held within a razor-thin range, roughly 7.35 to 7.45, by one of the most tightly defended systems in your body. Your lungs adjust it breath by breath, exhaling more or less carbon dioxide. Your kidneys fine-tune it by excreting or retaining acids and bases. Chemical buffers in your blood smooth out every wobble in between.

Nothing you drink meaningfully shifts that number. And you should be grateful: if a beverage could push blood pH outside its range, the result wouldn’t be wellness: it would be acidosis or alkalosis, medical emergencies that land people in intensive care. “Balanced pH” isn’t a goal to strive for. It’s your baseline, running silently since before you were born.

What food and supplements can change is urine pH, and this is where the confusion (and some marketing) comes from. Urine pH swings with diet precisely because the kidneys are dumping excess acid or base overboard to keep the blood steady. A shifting urine pH isn’t a sign the product is “alkalizing your body.” It’s a sign your kidneys are doing their job of ignoring it.

There’s a related claim that an “alkaline body” resists disease. Human studies don’t support it, for the reason above: your tissues never become meaningfully more alkaline in the first place. If you enjoy green drinks, enjoy them. Just retire pH from the list of reasons.

Can chlorophyll fix body odor and bad breath?

This is chlorophyllin’s oldest job, and its résumé is longer than TikTok knows. Beginning in the 1940s and 1950s, chlorophyllin was used clinically as an “internal deodorant”, given to people with colostomies or incontinence, and applied to slow-healing wounds, to blunt odor. Some of those early reports were enthusiastic; later, more careful studies were mixed, and much of the evidence is now more than half a century old, with small samples and methods that wouldn’t pass a modern journal’s review.

There is one niche where the idea retains a foothold: case reports and small studies suggest chlorophyllin may help some people with trimethylaminuria, a rare inherited condition in which the body cannot break down a fishy-smelling compound. That’s a specific metabolic scenario, not evidence that drops will change how the average person smells after a workout.

For everyday body odor, the boring mechanics still dominate. Sweat itself is nearly odorless; smell develops when skin bacteria digest it. Washing regularly, drying thoroughly, wearing breathable fabrics, and laundering workout clothes promptly outperform any supplement because they act exactly where the odor is made. Diet plays a supporting role, garlic, onions, and some spices carry through sweat and breath, and no green pigment overrides that chemistry.

One flag worth planting: a genuinely new, persistent change in body odor that hygiene doesn’t explain deserves a medical visit rather than a supplement, because odor changes can occasionally signal metabolic or infectious issues. More on that in the doctor section below.

What about chlorophyll for skin and acne?

Skin is where the trend feels most persuasive, before-and-after selfies are chlorophyll’s best salespeople. The published evidence is far thinner than the feed suggests.

The studies that exist are mostly pilot trials of topical chlorophyllin, a gel applied to the skin, in groups as small as ten people, sometimes without a comparison group, and in some cases with industry funding. Participants with mild to moderate acne or sun-damaged skin showed improvement over a few weeks. Those results are worth a follow-up study; they are not a verdict. Ten people without a placebo arm can “improve” from time, seasons, or the extra attention alone.

Evidence for drinking chlorophyll for clear skin is weaker still, essentially absent. If oral chlorophyllin helps some complexions, the most plausible route is indirect: people who start the habit often drink more water, cut back on sugary drinks, and pay closer attention to their skin, all of which can help on their own.

There’s also an ironic wrinkle: chlorophyllin-type compounds may increase sensitivity to sunlight in some people. A supplement taken for “glow” that makes you burn faster is a poor trade, and it’s a reason to be consistent with sun protection if you use these products.

Where diet does earn its skin reputation is the whole-food version: vegetables rich in carotenoids, vitamin C for collagen synthesis, and adequate hydration. Acne that’s persistent, painful, or scarring warrants a clinician’s eyes, modern acne care is effective, and waiting on a wellness trend can cost skin that treatment would have saved.

Is chlorophyll really "plant blood" that builds your blood?

You’ll hear this one in every chlorophyll explainer, and it starts from a genuinely lovely fact. Chlorophyll and heme, the oxygen-carrying core of your hemoglobin, are structurally similar, both built on a porphyrin ring. Set the two molecules side by side and they look like cousins. The critical difference sits at the center: chlorophyll holds a magnesium ion where heme holds iron.

The leap from “similar shape” to “drinking chlorophyll builds blood” fails on biochemistry. Your body cannot pop the magnesium out of a chlorophyll ring and press an iron atom in like changing a watch battery. Heme is manufactured from scratch inside your cells through a multi-step enzyme assembly line, and the ingredient that limits production is dietary iron, along with helpers like folate and vitamin B12. A magnesium-centered pigment (or the copper-centered chlorophyllin in most bottles) contributes no iron at all.

Here’s the twist that keeps the myth alive: eating lots of leafy greens genuinely does support healthy blood, just not through chlorophyll. Spinach, kale, and their relatives deliver non-heme iron, folate for red blood cell production, and vitamin K, which your body uses to make clotting factors. The green pigment is a bystander riding along with the nutrients doing the work.

So the folklore points at the right food and the wrong molecule. If low iron or anemia is the concern, fatigue, pallor, breathlessness on stairs, that’s a blood test conversation with a clinician, not a dropper decision. Guessing at anemia’s cause can miss the real one.

Liquid chlorophyll vs. a plate of greens: the honest comparison

Strip away the aesthetics and the choice becomes a nutrition-label question: what does each option actually deliver? The gap is stark enough that a table tells it best. One cup of raw spinach weighs about 30 grams, a single generous handful, and costs pennies.

What you get	1 cup raw spinach (~30 g)	Typical serving of green drops
Chlorophyll	Naturally occurring, within the plant’s food matrix	Chlorophyllin, a semi-synthetic copper derivative
Fiber	About 0.7 g toward the ~25–30 g most adults need daily	None
Folate	Roughly 15% of a day’s needs	None
Vitamin K	More than a full day’s needs	None
Lutein and other carotenoids	Present, linked in research to eye health	Absent
Calories	About 7	Near zero
Chewing, fullness, meal satisfaction	Yes	No

The pattern is the whole argument. Chlorophyll never travels alone in a plant; it comes packaged with fiber that feeds gut bacteria, folate for cell division, vitamin K for clotting and bone metabolism, and carotenoids the drops leave behind. Nutrition research keeps landing on the same finding: whole foods outperform their extracted parts, likely because those parts work as an ensemble.

And the audience for this comparison is nearly everyone. CDC surveillance data show only about 10 percent of American adults eat the recommended amount of vegetables. The green-drops trend is, in a sense, a nation that skips salad buying salad’s shadow.

What are the side effects of liquid chlorophyll?

For most healthy adults, chlorophyllin appears to be low-risk in the short term, which is different from risk-free, and different again from well-studied.

The most common effects are digestive and cosmetic. Green (sometimes near-black) stool is so typical it’s almost a signature, along with occasional green discoloration of the tongue or urine. Some users report loose stools, cramping, or nausea, particularly when starting. These usually settle or stop when the product does.

A few quieter issues deserve more attention than they get:

• Stool-color confusion. Dark-green or blackish stool from chlorophyllin can mimic, or mask, the tarry black stool that signals bleeding in the upper digestive tract. If you use these drops, tell your clinician, and don’t assume a color change is “just the chlorophyll.”
• Sun sensitivity. Some people may burn more easily while taking chlorophyllin-type compounds. Sunscreen becomes less optional, not more.
• Pregnancy and breastfeeding. There simply isn’t adequate safety research. Most clinicians advise sticking to food sources of green nutrition during these windows.
• Product variability. Supplements aren’t reviewed for effectiveness before sale, and contents can differ from labels. Choosing products verified by independent third-party testers reduces, but doesn’t eliminate, that uncertainty.

One indirect interaction is worth knowing even though it involves the food, not the drops: dark leafy greens are rich in vitamin K, which can affect how certain blood-thinning medicines work. People on those medicines shouldn’t avoid greens, consistency of intake is what matters, but they should loop in their care team before big dietary shifts.

When should you see a doctor?

Most chlorophyll questions are curiosity, not crisis. A few situations genuinely belong in an exam room rather than a comments section:

• Black, tarry, or bloody stoolespecially with dizziness, weakness, or abdominal pain. Don’t write it off as supplement discoloration; upper-GI bleeding produces a similar look and needs prompt evaluation.
• Digestive symptoms that persist after you stop the drops, ongoing diarrhea, cramping, or nausea lasting more than a few days deserves a check, not another product.
• Fatigue, paleness, breathlessness, or heavy periods that make you suspect low iron or anemia. A simple blood test identifies both the problem and its cause; self-treating with a pigment that contains no iron only delays answers.
• A new, persistent change in body or breath odor that hygiene doesn’t explain. It’s occasionally a clue to metabolic conditions, infections, or dental disease, all more fixable when found early.
• You take blood-thinning or other prescription medicines and plan to change your supplement routine or dramatically increase leafy greens. A quick conversation prevents avoidable interactions.
• You’re pregnant, breastfeeding, or considering the drops for a child or teen. Safety data for these groups is essentially absent, so this decision belongs with a clinician who knows the full picture.

A good general habit: bring every supplement you take, bottle photos work, to routine appointments. Clinicians can only account for what they know about, and “natural” products interact with medicines more often than their labels suggest.

Why does the trend feel like it works?

Millions of people aren’t lying about feeling better. Something real is happening: it just may not be the chlorophyll.

Start with hydration. The drops require a vessel, and the vessel is usually a big glass of water that wasn’t being drunk before. For someone running chronically under-hydrated, adding two tall glasses a day can plausibly improve headaches, energy, digestion, and even skin appearance. The pigment turns the water green; the water does the work.

Then there’s the ritual itself. A morning routine you find beautiful, the swirl, the glass, the small act of self-care, reliably improves how people report feeling. That’s the placebo effect and its cousin, expectation, and they’re not failures of character; they’re features of human brains that show up in nearly every clinical trial ever run. The catch is that rituals get expensive when a supplement is billing itself as the active ingredient.

There’s a substitution effect too. People who start a “green era” often quietly upgrade other habits at the same time, fewer sodas, earlier nights, a walk after lunch. Weeks later, the most photogenic change gets the credit.

The last ingredient is survivorship. Feeds show the people for whom the timeline improved; the thousands who noticed nothing don’t film testimonials. None of this makes green-drop drinkers foolish. It makes them human, and it explains why anecdotes, however sincere, can’t substitute for controlled trials when a claim involves your health or your money.

So, should you buy the green drops?

Here’s the opinionated read, grounded in the evidence above. If green drops get you drinking water you’d otherwise skip, you enjoy the ritual, your clinician has no objection, and you can afford them: they’re a low-risk habit. Nothing in the research says they’re dangerous for most healthy adults in the short term.

But if the question is where a health-minded dollar does the most work, the answer isn’t close. The strongest chlorophyllin finding on record involves people eating mold-contaminated food: a scenario most readers will never face. The pH claim contradicts physiology. The belly-fat claim borrows from a study of a different product. The “builds blood” claim points at the right vegetable and the wrong molecule. What remains is a pleasant green drink with a modest, mostly borrowed résumé.

Meanwhile, the original source of chlorophyll sits in the produce aisle, chronically under-purchased: about 90 percent of American adults fall short on vegetables. Both the NHS and the American Heart Association converge on the same target, around five daily portions of fruits and vegetables, where a portion is roughly a cupped handful. Hit that with a rotation of spinach, kale, broccoli, arugula, and herbs, and you’ll consume more chlorophyll than any dropper delivers, wrapped in fiber, folate, vitamin K, and carotenoids the bottle can’t hold.

The trend, at its best, is an arrow pointing back toward the plant. Follow the arrow all the way. Drink the green water if it makes you happy, then eat the leaf it came from.

Frequently asked questions

What will happen if I take chlorophyll every day?

Most likely: green-tinged stool, possibly a green cast to the tongue or urine, and sometimes mild digestive upset, with no proven metabolic benefit beyond the extra water you drink with it. No rigorous trials show daily chlorophyllin improves energy, skin, weight, or “detox” in healthy people, and long-term studies simply don’t exist. It appears low-risk short term for most healthy adults, but it’s not a substitute for eating vegetables.

What does chlorophyll do for females?

Nothing hormone-specific, based on current evidence, no credible trials show chlorophyll affects estrogen, periods, menopause, or “hormone balance.” The benefits women are usually seeking live in leafy greens themselves: folate (critical before and during early pregnancy), non-heme iron for menstrual losses, plus calcium and vitamin K for bones. Chlorophyllin drops contain none of these nutrients, so the vegetable outperforms the supplement on every claim aimed at women.

Does chlorophyll help pH balance?

No, and nothing needs to. Your lungs, kidneys, and blood buffers hold blood pH between about 7.35 and 7.45 continuously; no food or drink meaningfully changes it. Diet can shift urine pH, but that’s evidence your kidneys are excreting the excess, not that your body is becoming “alkaline.” If blood pH actually moved outside its range, the result would be a medical emergency, not improved wellness.

Does chlorophyll help you lose belly fat?

No. No supplement targets fat in a specific body area, and there are no quality trials showing chlorophyllin drops cause weight loss. The study often cited used thylakoid extract, whole spinach membranes, a different product, and showed only modest effects in a small group. The realistic benefit is substitution: a near-zero-calorie green drink replacing a daily sugary soda saves meaningful calories over a year. The drops themselves do nothing metabolic.

Does chlorophyll detox your liver?

There’s no evidence it does. The famous chlorophyllin trial showed reduced DNA-damage biomarkers in people eating aflatoxin-contaminated food: a specific gut-binding effect in an extreme exposure situation, not general “detoxing.” Your liver chemically processes unwanted compounds and your kidneys excrete them around the clock without supplemental help. If those organs were genuinely failing, the treatment would be medical care, not a green drink.

Does chlorophyll actually reduce body odor?

The evidence is old, mixed, and mostly from small studies. Chlorophyllin was used from the 1940s onward to manage odor in wound care and for people with colostomies, with inconsistent results, and small reports suggest possible benefit in trimethylaminuria, a rare metabolic condition. For everyday odor, hygiene fundamentals, washing, breathable fabrics, prompt laundering, work far more reliably. A new, persistent odor change that hygiene doesn’t explain deserves a medical visit.

Is liquid chlorophyll safe during pregnancy or breastfeeding?

There isn’t enough safety research to say, which is itself the answer: most clinicians advise skipping it during pregnancy and breastfeeding and getting green nutrition from food instead. Leafy vegetables provide folate, genuinely important for fetal neural development, along with iron and calcium, none of which the drops contain. Anyone pregnant or nursing should review all supplements with their prenatal care team before use.

Does chlorophyll give you energy like it gives plants energy?

No: that’s a category error the marketing leans on. Plants use chlorophyll to capture light because they have photosynthetic machinery; human cells have none, so the pigment can’t generate energy in your body. Ingested chlorophyll is mostly degraded by stomach acid. People who feel more energetic after starting the habit are usually experiencing better hydration, expectation effects, or other simultaneous habit upgrades, not photosynthesis.

Can chlorophyll drops replace eating vegetables?

Not remotely. The drops supply one semi-synthetic pigment and nothing else, while even a single cup of raw spinach adds fiber, roughly 15 percent of daily folate, over a full day’s vitamin K, and carotenoids like lutein, for about 7 calories. Nutrition research consistently finds whole foods outperform isolated extracts. With only about 10 percent of U.S. adults meeting vegetable recommendations, the produce aisle is where the actual gap is.

Why does chlorophyll turn stool and urine green?

Because much of the pigment isn’t absorbed: it passes through the digestive tract and exits with waste, tinting stool green and sometimes near-black; small absorbed amounts can tint urine. It’s generally harmless, but it creates a real diagnostic pitfall: very dark stool from chlorophyllin can resemble the tarry stool caused by upper-GI bleeding. Tell your clinician you use the drops, and seek care if dark stool comes with dizziness, weakness, or abdominal pain.

References

• Adults Meeting Fruit and Vegetable Intake Recommendations: United States, 2019 (CDC MMWR)
• Antioxidants (MedlinePlus)
• Why 5 A Day? (NHS)

This article is for general information only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice. Please consult a qualified doctor about your individual situation.