When you walk into the grocery store, it seems probiotics are everywhere.

Yogurt, sauerkraut, kimchi and kefir are all packed with probiotics, microorganisms that help support healthy bacteria in the digestive system. 

But it’s not just probiotics that boost digestion and the immune system. There are also their little-known cousins: prebiotics, postbiotics and synbiotics. 

The terms all sound similar, but experts warn they are not interchangeable. 

While probiotics are active microbes that add to the gut’s healthy community of bacteria, prebiotics are plant fibers that ‘feed’ those good bacteria. 

Postbiotics, meanwhile, are made from non-living microorganisms and cell fragments, while synbiotics serve as a combination of prebiotics and postbiotics. 

So what does each one do, and how much, if any, does your gut really need? 

Below, dietitians reveal to the Daily Mail everything you need to know about these powerful microbes.

Probiotics, prebiotics and postbiotics all sound similar, but they are not created equal

Prebiotics: Feeding the microbes you already have

‘Prebiotics are the fuel for the good bacteria in the gut,’ Leslie Bonci, a registered dietitian in Pittsburgh, told the Daily Mail. 

Prebiotic compounds are naturally found in a variety of plant-based sources, including onions, garlic, leeks, asparagus, oats, lentils, whole grains, flaxseed, apples and green bananas.

By helping healthy bacteria multiply, prebiotics are thought to support the gut barrier and protect colon cells from damage.  

A 2024 systematic review and meta-analysis of randomized trials found that supplementation with fructooligosaccharides, a type of prebiotic most often found in chicory root and garlic, increased bowel-movement frequency and improved constipation.

Frequent bowel movements keep stool from sitting in the colon for too long and raising the risk of toxins entering the colon. 

But adding too much too quickly can backfire. ‘Some people find that taking a supplemental form of prebiotics can cause a lot of digestive distress,’ Bonci said. 

She recommends gradually increasing fiber and food sources of prebiotics rather than immediately reaching for a supplement, as the dosage can vary.

Probiotics: Not all strains are created equal

Probiotics are live microorganisms that can boost the gut’s population of healthy bacteria, but each kind works differently. 

‘Different strains can have different effects, and the research supporting one strain for a particular condition doesn’t necessarily apply to another,” Amanda Godman Roll, a dietitian based in New York, told the Daily Mail. 

The American Gastroenterological Association emphasizes that not all strains work for all conditions. For example, its guidelines have found insufficient evidence to broadly recommend all probiotics for several digestive conditions, including irritable bowel syndrome (IBS).

That doesn’t mean they never help, but their benefits are highly individual.

Some probiotics have been studied for very specific uses. Lactobacillus rhamnosus GG, or LGG, and Saccharomyces boulardii, a beneficial yeast, have been shown to reduce the risk and symptoms of antibiotic-associated diarrhea. 

Bifidobacterium longum 35624, meanwhile, is thought to reduce symptoms of IBS such as bloating and abdominal pain.

Rather than choosing based only on the number of strains or ‘gut healthy’ claims, Godman Roll recommends looking for the exact strain and whether it has been studied at a similar dose for that condition.

Synbiotics: Combining approaches

Synbiotics are a combination of prebiotics and probiotics, such as yogurt with plant-based toppings

Synbiotics are a combination of probiotics and prebiotics that work together to support bacteria survival and growth. 

Common examples include Bifidobacterium and Fructooligosaccharides, as well as Lactobacillus and Inulin.

In food, examples of synbiotics include Greek yogurt with chicory root or a kefir smoothie with bananas and oats. 

A 2026 trial of 350 adults with bloating or indigestion found that synbiotic supplementation was associated with improved bloating, gas, abdominal discomfort and other bowel symptoms over six weeks compared to a placebo.

Experts urge consumers to look for evidence on the specific combination in the synbiotic product rather than assuming all synbiotics work the same way.

Postbiotics: Do the microbes need to be alive?

Postbiotics are the newest and perhaps least familiar of these gut-health terms. Unlike probiotics, postbiotics do not contain live microorganisms. Instead, they contain inactivated microbes or parts of those microbes that may still affect the body.

That raises an intriguing question: Can microbes still provide benefits even after they are no longer alive?

Early human research suggests they might. In a 2024 trial of 200 adults with diarrhea-predominant IBS, researchers compared a live strain of Bifidobacterium longum with a heat-treated version of the same strain. Both improved IBS symptom-severity compared to placebo after 12 weeks.

‘The current evidence is limited, but postbiotics are an area of growing interest,’ Godman Roll said. She said research is also exploring their potential role in treating IBS and the bacterial infection Helicobacter pylori (H pylori). 

She also noted postbiotics may be of particular interest for some higher-risk populations where giving live microbes can raise concerns, such as those who are immunocompromised.

For consumers, the important distinction is that ‘postbiotic’ is not one ingredient. Different preparations may contain different microorganisms and components, so Godman Roll recommends looking for human research on the exact product or condition you are hoping to address.

So what does your gut actually need?

Fermented foods like kimchi can provide probiotics without needing a supplement

For many healthy people, the answer may be none of these forms as supplements.

Bonci starts with simpler questions: Are you well hydrated? Could your fiber intake be better? Do you regularly eat foods containing live active cultures? 

‘I would focus on these variables first before adding in any supplements,’ she said.

Godman Roll takes a similar approach. ‘I would first consider what condition they’re hoping to address and what they’ve already tried,’ she said. 

Fermented foods such as yogurt, kefir, sauerkraut and kimchi can provide live microorganisms, while fiber-rich plant foods provide fuel for gut microbes.

There are times when a supplement may be worth considering. Someone taking antibiotics, for example, may benefit from certain probiotic strains that have been studied for antibiotic-associated diarrhea, although probiotics are not appropriate or necessary for everyone.

If constipation is the main concern, total fiber, fluid and the type of fiber may matter more than whether a bottle says ‘prebiotic.’

Ultimately, there isn’t a one-size-fits-all answer. The better question may not be which ‘biotic’ is best, but what problem are you trying to solve?

Johannah Katz, MA, RD, is a registered dietitian based in Florida 

By MARTI STELLING, HEALTH REPORTER

Published: 11:47 EDT, 11 October 2026 | Updated: 11:49 EDT, 11 October 2026

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A chewable vitamin gummy could help people with dementia to keep their teeth clean without needing a toothbrush.

The product, Dentablue, was developed by Molly Baldini, a former NHS dementia service manager in Hertfordshire, after seeing how distressing and time-consuming oral care can be for those with dementia and their carers.

Dementia can make everyday grooming tasks such as brushing teeth or hair difficult because the brain struggles to process multi-step sequences, recognise familiar tools or co-ordinate physical movements.

‘I saw it was causing so much distress for carers trying to brush a person with dementia’s teeth that it got pushed aside for other priorities like nutrition and hydration, and carers were left feeling they hadn’t quite done their job,’ says Ms Baldini.

‘People with dementia were going without oral care and I was angry there was no alternative – I felt I had to create something.’

Dentablue, developed through Alzheimer’s Society’s innovation programme, will be launched at the end of the month. The peppermint-flavoured gummy can be chewed and swallowed in seconds.

Dementia can make everyday grooming tasks difficult because the brain struggles to process multi-step sequences, recognise familiar tools or co-ordinate physical movements

They can be taken twice a day and contain vitamins C and D to help maintain healthy teeth and gums – and are sugar-free.

They will cost £16.99 a month for a pack of 28 via the company’s website or Alzheimer’s Society’s online shop.

Natasha Howard Murray, innovation programme manager at Alzheimer’s Society, said: ‘Dentablue is a great example of how practical innovations can help tackle some of the everyday challenges of dementia.

‘It can take around 15 minutes to support someone living with dementia to brush their teeth – a level of support that can be really difficult given staffing pressures.

‘For some with dementia, tooth brushing and mouthwash can sometimes become confusing, uncomfortable or distressing.

‘Dentablue offers another option and can help people maintain good oral health while reducing distress, as well as easing pressure on carers, freeing up time for other aspects of care.’

Starting off your day with orange juice might actually keep the doctor away, research suggests.  

Packed with vitamin C and antioxidants, orange juice is lauded for its immune-boosting properties that ward off pesky winter viruses.

But a growing body of research suggests a glass or two of orange juice a day may have long-term benefits beyond flu season.

In one recent study, researchers found that people who drank two cups of 100 percent orange juice every day had significant changes in genes related to faster metabolism, better blood vessel function and lower inflammation. 

People who carried more weight also saw greater improvements in how their bodies processed fat after drinking orange juice, which could result in weight loss. 

Additional studies have shown similar benefits, including lower blood pressure, putting regular orange juice drinkers at a reduced risk of heart disease. 

Experts believe antioxidants in the juice called flavonoids may help trigger differences in genes related to inflammation and heart function. 

However, they emphasize that not all juices are created equal. Orange juice blends with added sugar have consistently been linked to a greater risk of heart disease, as they lead to blood sugar spikes and inflammation in the heart and blood vessels.

Recent studies show drinking orange juice once or twice a day may reduce cholesterol, blood pressure and excess weight

One hundred percent juice, meanwhile, only contains naturally occurring sugar and has no additional additives or preservatives.  

In one recent study, published last year in the journal Molecular Nutrition & Food Research, researchers divided 20 participants evenly into two groups: 10 normal-weight and 10 overweight adults. 

Before the study began, participants gave a blood sample after fasting. Researchers isolated a group of white blood cells called peripheral blood mononuclear cells (PBMCs), which include immune system cells, such as lymphocytes and monocytes. 

Every participant drank 17oz, or two cups, of pasteurized 100 percent orange juice each day for 60 days. 

After two months, another fasting blood sample was collected so researchers could see whether drinking orange juice had changed the activity of certain genes. 

Researchers found that the activity of 1,705 genes had changed significantly – 1,673 became less active, while 32 became more active. 

Several genes involved in inflammation became less active after participants drank orange juice daily, including one linked to the production of the inflammatory protein IL-1β. 

Researchers also found changes in genes involved in systems that control blood pressure, finding reductions specifically in NAMPT, NLRP3, NR4A2 and SGK1 – all which have previously been associated with high blood pressure. 

Orange juice also affected genes linked to how the body stores fat. Several genes involved in the formation of fat cells, including some previously linked to obesity, became less active, including KLF4, RIPK1, PLIN2 and CXCL8.

Previous studies have found similar benefits related to heart health. 

In one 2020 review, researchers found regular orange juice consumption was associated with lower blood sugar and insulin levels, reducing the risk of type 2 diabetes. 

Similarly, a 2021 meta-analysis looking at 639 participants found that orange juice consumption lowered cholesterol, which is directly linked to heart disease risk, and insulin resistance, a precursor to type 2 diabetes.

And a meta-analysis in the journal Food & Function found that overweight and obese adults had reductions in blood pressure and increases in HDL (good) cholesterol after several weeks of drinking orange juice regularly. 

These benefits may be due to structural changes in blood vessels. One recent study of 68 obese participants found that daily orange juice consumption improved endothelial function, or function of the lining of the blood vessels. 

Better endothelial function means the blood vessels are able to more easily relax and widen, lowering the risk of heart attacks. 

Researchers caution that before adding orange juice to your breakfast rotation, make sure you’re only picking up 100 percent fruit juice, as other varieties can include more added sugar than a Krispy Kreme donut or a chocolate chip cookie. 

In September 2023, my four-year-old son Billy started school. He was excited to be a big boy, make new friends and join the minis team at the local rugby club. His whole future was so incredibly bright. He was so incredibly happy.

Two months later I found myself in a hospital room while a doctor told me that my beautiful little boy had ‘a large mass’ in his brain. He was going to die.

Our world imploded. And the five months Billy had left were heartbreakingly difficult for me and my husband, Jamie.

Billy was happy-go-lucky. He loved superheroes, dinosaurs, rugby, riding his bike and scooting. He’d arrive at playschool on his trike wearing a different superhero costume every day.

He had looked forward to going to ‘big school’ for months, but almost as soon as he started, things began to change.

He became unsettled and frustrated. He had terrible night terrors. He complained that his legs ‘were too tired to walk’. I started leaving work early so I could get a parking space close to school because I’d often have to carry him from the gates to the car.

Our confident little boy became anxious about leaving our home in Surrey. He stopped wanting to play rugby and go swimming. He couldn’t explain why. His speech regressed – he seemed to lose the ‘big boy voice’ he’d developed. His eyes looked heavy and tired. They were such small things – things that maybe even his teachers wouldn’t notice. But we noticed.

We’d been back and forth to the doctors for months, knowing something wasn’t right. Blood tests were clear, ultrasounds revealed nothing. I was starting to feel like one of those mothers.

Ellie Thompson with Billy before his illness, which was discovered just after he started school

Billy was happy-go-lucky. He loved superheroes, dinosaurs, rugby, riding his bike and scooting

On October 25, I emailed his school: ‘I just can’t believe this is the same boy… we just want our old Billy back!’

Six days later, his headteacher called to say Billy had fallen over in the playground ‘out of the blue’ – it was the second time that week. He’d also fallen over at home, while going upstairs.

I got off the phone and told Jamie, who whispered something that stopped me in my tracks.

He had suffered an illness in his early 20s that had triggered encephalitis – swelling of the brain – and recognised that loss of balance could be a symptom of something neurological. ‘I think Billy might have a brain tumour.’

Ten minutes later, we were on the way to the GP. But after examining him, the doctor told me with confidence: ‘There’s absolutely no way he has a brain tumour.’ A brain tumour meant excruciating headaches or weakness down one side, he reassured me. Billy’s blood tests had been clear. His problems were likely to be mental health related – separation anxiety perhaps.

We were given the number of our local health visitor. We left but deep down I knew something wasn’t right. A week later, on November 7, we took Billy to A&E – with the GP seeming not to believe there was anything serious wrong, we had nowhere else to turn.

A doctor listened to us. Billy looked OK, she said, but because of our instincts and because we knew him best, she would order a CT scan. It found a mass in an area of Billy’s brain called the pons, which helps control unconscious processes such as breathing and sleep.

Twenty-four hours later, after an MRI, we had a diagnosis: diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma, or DIPG, a devastating brainstem tumour with no cure.

His prognosis was described to us as ‘dismal’. Our little boy, who only weeks earlier had walked through the school gates with his whole life stretching ahead of him, was going to die.

The night after, Billy was lying in our bed talking about Ghostbusters. He said: ‘Mummy, I can’t wait to grow up!’

I matched his enthusiasm, kissed him and tucked him in. Then I walked out of the room and silently wept, gripping the bannister tightly so I wouldn’t collapse.

Billy didn’t know he was dying. It was the most heartbreaking secret we’ve ever had to keep.

I want to be careful about what I say next. This isn’t about claiming somebody could have magically saved him. DIPG killed Billy. It is a devastating paediatric cancer for which there is no truly effective treatment.

But accepting that Billy couldn’t be cured does not mean accepting that everything about his care couldn’t have been better.

Looking back, the shortcomings surrounding his care, especially in his final hours, poured trauma on top of trauma.

Billy’s diagnosis was a diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma, or DIPG… a devastating brainstem tumour with no cure

Billy dressed as Iron Man for the fitting of the mask that would hold his head still while he underwent intense radiotherapy sessions

Within days of his diagnosis, Billy underwent a biopsy in the hope that understanding the genetic make-up of his tumour might open doors to experimental treatments. We were told he was theoretically eligible for an immunotherapy trial at Great Ormond Street Hospital. We were warned how hard it would be to get on the trial and how physically and mentally gruelling it would be.

But as we were scrambling to find the right way forward, his tumour was already growing.

Two weeks later Billy began the first of 13 sessions of intense radiotherapy – the only treatment offered for DIPG on the NHS. It exists just to buy time.

Billy dressed as Iron Man for the fitting of the mask that would hold his head completely still while the radiation was delivered. They placed a warm sheet of thermoplastic over his little face, covering his eyes, nose and mouth, and secured it to the bed while it hardened into his exact shape.

Radiotherapy was scary. Each day he was left in a room, bolted to a plinth so he didn’t move, with a huge machine whirring over his head.

He wore his little Christmas jumpers, or his beloved gingerbread man costume, and I read books from his Mr Men advent calendar to him over the tannoy.

He was terrified but did his best to smile. He’d adopted this mantra: ‘I am brave, I am strong, I can do scary things.’ And we said it together, often.

He was nicknamed Billy The Brave. Although he once told me, his bottom lip trembling, ‘I’m not brave, Mummy, cos I sometimes cry.’

Since Billy’s treatment, questions have been raised about whether delivering radiotherapy so intensively is the right approach for children, and I believe it was too much for our little boy.

He experienced intense head pain after the first session – he screamed and began vomiting.

Jamie and I enlisted friends and family to desperately try to work out a plan to save him. We contacted DIPG specialists and hospitals from around the world.

We chased hope wherever we could find it.

We discovered trials that combined radiotherapy with other drugs, only to find Billy was automatically excluded because he had already completed his treatment. We weren’t given options. We were told there weren’t any.

As the weeks wore on, I became increasingly frustrated. It seemed as though world-leading doctors specialising in DIPG in other countries were more accessible, more responsive and, frankly, more hopeful than our NHS team.

I don’t know whether any of those options would have changed Billy’s outcome.

But I do question why parents of a newly diagnosed child should have to spend the precious time they have left trawling the internet, contacting specialists around the world and trying to navigate clinical trials themselves. Surely there should be an easier way?

Billy’s symptoms outpaced the entire process of getting what little treatment there was available. He didn’t make the trial at Great Ormond Street Hospital.

‘The worst of the worst,’ our consultant explained. ‘Dealing with his tumour mutation is like trying to hold back a tsunami.’ We were told time was running out, but a drug called ONC201 had become available from the US on compassionate grounds. It might buy us a little time.

But by the time it arrived from America, Billy had lost the use of his legs. He’d experienced blindness and double vision. He’d lost the use of an arm. He was in such a bad way that we could not justify giving it to him, only to prolong his suffering. I was furious.

‘Why wouldn’t they listen to me weeks back, when I begged them to get plan B in place?’ I wrote on Instagram, where I’d been posting about Billy’s journey. ‘Why hadn’t this drug been ordered before?’

And all the while, Billy was changing. He was suffering with little to no respite. The steroids he was on to control the tumour’s swelling caused terrible side-effects, and they began taking their toll on our little boy. He became excessively bloated and uncomfortable. He was almost completely unrecognisable.

Just before Christmas, an attempt to reduce his steroids was followed by such rapid deterioration we were blue-lighted to St George’s Hospital in south London. Doctors talked about the possibility of a brain shunt, suspecting excess fluid and pressure within the brain.

Billy’s days and nights were impossibly hard. But underneath the tumour, the steroids, the anxiety, the perpetual hunger and the desperate need to feel better, he was still a normal little boy.

When one side of his body became weaker, he played Mario on his Nintendo one-handed. He made us laugh, even when he could barely speak. He worried about his sister. He wanted to go back to school. He missed his friends.

We tried so hard to give him pieces of his old life, but the tumour took more and more of it away. By the end of March, we knew we were losing him.

We had boxes of end-of-life medication and equipment in our house. They had arrived weeks earlier, and I hated looking at them. They were there for the moment when hope finally ran out. The end.

It came on Saturday, March 30. Billy woke up early, as he always did, and we carried him downstairs. By now he was mostly paralysed. He still had the use of one hand, but he couldn’t walk, turn over in bed or sit up himself.

He had some breakfast and was eating a bowl of broken-up chocolate from an Easter egg hunt the day before. He took his morning tablets. He was always so proud of how many he could swallow at once. But that morning, he threw them up.

By lunchtime he was struggling to swallow, and we couldn’t administer the steroids he so desperately needed to stay alive. We carried him to bed early that night. He was insistent on sleeping in his own bedroom, listening to Queen songs, so we put a mattress next to his bed so I could sleep beside him.

I lay there watching him, but he began to vomit. Billy could no longer speak, but managed to give us one last thumbs-up to tell us he’d stopped vomiting so we could lay him back down to sleep.

It wasn’t until the shock wore off days later that I realised I didn’t remember his last words.

His eyes closed for the last time, and I guess that’s when he left us, and slipped into a coma.

He was still alive, but he was gone.

We carried him downstairs so we could be with him. His suffering visibly continued throughout the night. We called the hospice, begging for help.

A nurse arrived. She was unable to administer the drugs Billy needed without a second colleague, and had to video-call the hospital for approval. She told us she did not believe Billy was at the end of his life. She then told us the pain medication Billy needed wasn’t in the locked boxes that had been left in our home for exactly this moment.

She left to retrieve the ‘missing items’, returning hours later to give Billy the medicine. And then she left again, promising to return first thing in the morning.

We felt abandoned.

The hours that followed were brutal. There are things that happened that I refuse to put into words, because they are too horrifying, too personal. The dying process, with no adequate medication, was traumatic. Billy had to fight to find peace.

Billy with his mother as his illness took hold. He died on March 31, just 15 days away from his fifth birthday

The family have raised £140,000 for Billy’s Battalion, a charity dedicated to raising awareness of his illness, to fund research, treatments and one day a cure

The hospice nurse finally arrived at 10.50am, just 20 minutes before Billy died. When she saw him, she announced loudly: ‘The situation’s changed. He’s dying.’

She left for the kitchen to get something from her medical bag. Her colleague was there, and they shared a joke – we could hear them laughing from the living room.

I whispered to Billy that he could rest and that everything was OK. I told him that he was so brave, the bravest, and so loved, but that he could sleep now, and not worry about a thing. I felt his breathing stop. My hand was on his chest when his little heart became still.

Billy died at 11.10am on March 31. Just 15 days away from his fifth birthday. Those final hours left us with questions that no complaint response has ever made up for, but I can only hope that, at the end, all Billy could feel was his Mummy and Daddy’s love.

When your child dies, your world shatters. The following night, sobbing, I called the symptoms team, wondering if they’d still take a call, knowing our child was dead. I wanted somebody to explain how our son’s final hours unfolded the way they did. ‘Was this right?’ I begged. ‘Should this have happened the way it did?’ I was told briskly: ‘I can’t answer that. I was not working last night.’ Case closed.

More than anything, I wanted somebody to reassure me that Billy had received everything he needed, but they couldn’t.

We can’t change Billy’s story. And so I write this not with an axe to grind, but in the hope these words can change another person’s experience. Because, for now at least, another family is going to receive this diagnosis. Another family will have to face the unimaginable reality that their child is going to die.

After Billy’s death we founded Billy’s Battalion, dedicated to raising awareness of DIPG, to fund research, treatments and one day a cure. A legacy in his name. Something good in the bad. We have been a registered charity for just over a year and have raised £140,000, and, since Billy’s death, another £85,000 for Abbie’s Army, the UK’s leading DIPG charity.

I support Brain Cancer Justice and have taken Billy’s story to Parliament, joining other families and campaigners to lobby MPs for greater investment in childhood brain tumour research and better access to clinical trials.

I’m also working alongside other bereaved parents and campaigners, including those behind Hugh’s Law, to push for better support for families facing serious childhood illness and better care when a child reaches the end of their life.

Billy never got the chance to get better. His miracle did not come.

After he died, I wrote something that still stands true: ‘And now I will fight for little ones like you. Because I’m not sure what else I am supposed to do if I can’t do that.’

Visit billysbattalion.org or donate via Just Giving. Follow Ellie on Instagram at @ellielexie, and the charity at @billysbattalion