From death sentence to Olympic competition, the 'harebrained idea' that's saving horses
The horse should have been dead.
That's what horse owners face when septic arthritis strikes their animals. The infection that turns a $50,000 athlete into what the industry brutally calls a "pasture ornament" — if the horse is lucky enough to survive at all.
But Jessica Gilbertie, associate professor in the Department of Biomedical Sciences and Pathobiology at the Virginia-Maryland College of Veterinary Medicine, and her research partner, Lauren Schnabel, professor of equine orthopedic surgery at the North Carolina State College of Veterinary Medicine, found themselves staring at something that defied everything they knew about these deadly infections. The horse looked perfect. Completely healthy. Like nothing had ever been wrong.
"I remember we were like, was this horse ever actually infected? Because the leg looked so good," Gilbertie recalled. They double-checked their records. This horse had indeed suffered septic arthritis — the kind of biofilm infection that kills one in five animals and leaves half the survivors too damaged ever to compete again.
Three days. That's all it took with an experimental therapy called BIO-PLY to transform this horse from a death sentence to an Olympic competitor.
For horse owners, veterinarians, and anyone who's ever loved an animal, this moment represents hope where there was none. But the implications extend far beyond veterinary medicine.
Biofilm infections affect humans just as devastatingly, from the chronic lung infections that plague cystic fibrosis patients to the post-surgical infections that can turn routine procedures deadly.
"We literally do not have one antibiotic currently on the market that can kill biofilms, not one," Gilbertie said.
Let that sink in. The infections that cause 80 percent of all bacterial diseases in humans and animals? Modern medicine is essentially helpless against them, until now.
The fortress that antibiotics cannot breach
Picture this: You're fighting an enemy, but instead of facing them in the open where your weapons work, they've built an impenetrable fortress.
Now, imagine that every time you attack, they get stronger.
That's what biofilm infections feel like to anyone who's ever battled them.
Gilbertie explains biofilms with an analogy that makes the invisible enemy visible: Think of a typical bacterial infection as "a person living out in a cabin in the woods by themselves"—vulnerable, isolated, easily defeated by antibiotics.
But biofilms? "Now let's say someone in the middle of New York City, in this high-rise — you're living with a bunch of other people, sharing resources, and you have the cover of this building to protect you from the zombies."
Those "zombies" are antibiotics. The "high-rise" is the protective matrix that biofilms build around themselves. And just like a real fortress, once bacteria get inside and lock the doors, conventional weapons become useless.
Biofilms cause 80 percent of all bacterial infections. Pharmaceutical companies have developed zero antibiotics specifically designed to combat them. When doctors face a biofilm infection, they're essentially bringing a water gun to a tank fight.
The result? Veterinarians watching helplessly as the "susceptibility report says penicillin should work, but the patient keeps getting sicker,” Gilbertie said. “Switch antibiotics—still failing. Switch again—still failing." Often, the only solution is surgical removal of infected tissue or implants.
It's medicine's equivalent of surrendering.
And here's the nightmare scenario: these bacterial fortresses become training grounds for antibiotic resistance.
"If you're hitting it with a bunch of penicillin and it's not working, that biofilm can then evolve and actually become a true antimicrobial-resistant bug as well," Gilbertie said. Over time, you're not just fighting an impenetrable fortress — you're fighting superbugs that have grown stronger from every failed attack.
From dental offices to horse hospitals
The path to BIO-PLY began in an unlikely place: periodontal practice.
Dentists treating infected wisdom teeth and oral implants had discovered that platelet-rich plasma, with or without antibiotics, showed remarkable success rates. This observation sparked what Gilbertie calls her "harebrained idea" — what if platelets could combat biofilms in other infections?
Working with Tom Schaer, associate professor of comparative orthopedic surgery at the University of Pennsylvania School of Veterinary Medicine, she received modest funding to test the concept.
"Dr. Schaer was like, let's play with your harebrained idea,” Gilbertie said. “Here's a couple of hundred bucks. See if it works. And it worked, and then it just kept working."
The discovery revealed that platelets produce cocktails of antimicrobial peptides — natural infection-fighting compounds that work together in devastating synergy against biofilms.
Previous researchers had tried to isolate individual peptides, but these isolated compounds consistently failed in clinical trials. Gilbertie's innovation was keeping the complete mixture intact.
"Every time I try to cherry-pick one of those peptides out of that mixture, I completely lose activity," she said. "It's really the synergism between the multiple peptides within the cocktail, because that's what happens naturally. You have a platelet, you get a cut, and platelets go there to release antimicrobial peptides that help eliminate bacteria. They're not releasing one — they're releasing all of them."
The moment everything changed
Traditional treatment for septic arthritis in horses is a coin flip at best — 50 percent return to athletic function, 20 percent don't survive. For a horse owner who has invested years of training, love, and money, those odds feel like a death sentence.
Then came the BIO-PLY results: 80 percent return to function. Zero deaths.
The most dramatic proof came from an elite horse that developed septic arthritis just months before the Olympics. Any horse owner will tell you what that means: Dreams crushed, careers ended, years of preparation destroyed.
"Usually, if you're a month or two out from an Olympic event and your horse gets a septic joint, you're not going to the Olympics. You're done," Gilbertie said.
Seven days of BIO-PLY treatment later, that horse was en route to competing on the world's biggest stage.
Think about what that means for a horse owner facing the same diagnosis. Think about what it means for veterinarians who've had to deliver devastating news to heartbroken families.
"Just being able to overcome the infection to the point where they could actively compete only two months before was pretty impressive," Gilbertie noted.
For horse owners, this isn't just about statistics — it's about hope restored where none existed before. "Think about how much time and effort goes into a horse from breeding it to training it, and you're spending a lot of money to purchase this horse," Gilbertie explains. "Let's say you're $50,000 into this horse, and then it gets a septic joint."
Before BIO-PLY, that scenario had two likely endings: death or what the industry calls a "pasture ornament" — a once-magnificent athlete reduced to an expensive lawn decoration.
"Horses like to be athletes," Gilbertie said. "A lot of these horses, if they've been bred to be high-functioning athletes, and all of a sudden they just sit in the pasture, they get bored."
Now imagine being that horse owner, watching your animal return to full health, full competition, full life. "Something that you'd come in and the prognosis would be, we should probably euthanize this horse, and they get three days of BIO-PLY, and they're back home running around in the pasture, kicking their owners," she described with joy. "That's what they're supposed to do."
From academic lab to startup reality
Recognizing BIO-PLY's transformative potential, Gilbertie launched Qentoros, Inc., a biotechnology startup focused on bringing the therapy to market.
"I didn't want BIO-PLY to be a really cool thing that sat on the shelf in my lab," she said. "I think so many of us make really amazing inventions, and we innovate really well, but then we just move on to the next innovation, and it just maybe stays as a dusty patent."
The clinical urgency drove her to take an entrepreneurial leap. "Something that you'd come in and the prognosis would be, we should probably euthanize this horse, and they get three days of BIO-PLY, and they're back home running around in the pasture, kicking their owners," she said. "I knew I wanted to get it out of my academic lab, and if I wasn't gonna do it, nobody else was."
Under her scientific leadership, Qentoros has secured over $1.2 million in funding and been selected for Johnson & Johnson's prestigious JLABS Virtual Residency program. The company has also received NIH support for developing human applications — because BIO-PLY's potential extends far beyond veterinary medicine.
Reversing the one health paradigm
Gilbertie's three-year tenure at Edward Via College of Osteopathic Medicine, where she taught future human physicians, shaped a revolutionary perspective on medical innovation. Traditional thinking assumes that veterinary medicine receives the leftovers of human medicine — drugs that fail human trials are repurposed for animals.
"The mechanism previously has been, let's discover this antibiotic. Oh, it doesn't work in humans. Let's repurpose it for animals," Gilbertie said. "Well, why can't we do it the other way? Why can't we find something really powerful and unique for vet med, and then maybe the humans can have it later?"
This bidirectional approach to One Health principles challenges fundamental assumptions about medical hierarchy. BIO-PLY represents proof of concept that veterinary innovation can lead human medicine rather than follow it.
The Virginia Tech advantage
Gilbertie's return to Blacksburg — where she completed her undergraduate and master's degrees — represents more than a personal homecoming.
The infrastructure and collaborative environment at Virginia Tech have significantly accelerated her research.
"The amount that I've gotten done in a year here has been remarkable," she said, crediting the shared laboratory resources and collaborative environment. "I can take something I'm doing in the research lab and bring it to the clinic, or I can see a problem that clinicians are facing from an infectious disease standpoint in the clinic, and then bring it back to the lab. So I have this constant feedback back and forth."
This integration extends to her role as associate professor of microbiology at the Virginia-Maryland College of Veterinary Medicine, where she's building the next generation of veterinary scientists. The Class of 2028 honored her as Outstanding Instructor — recognition that validates her teaching philosophy of making microbiology memorable through storytelling and clinical relevance.
The expanding pipeline
BIO-PLY has become what Gilbertie calls "this kind of base that we are developing new therapeutics on." Her laboratory now explores antimicrobial peptide cocktails derived from other biological sources, consistently finding that these natural combinations outperform isolated compounds.
"Every time they work really well, until you oversimplify them,” Gilbertie said. “If you distill them down to one, they don't work anymore."
The insight challenges long-held assumptions in the pharmaceutical industry about drug development and suggests vast untapped potential in biological combination therapies.
The immediate pipeline includes advancing BIO-PLY through clinical trials while exploring new applications across species. With NIH funding supporting human translation studies, Gilbertie can now produce BIO-PLY from human platelets, setting the stage for therapies that could revolutionize the treatment of biofilm infections in both veterinary and human medicine.
Balancing innovation and life
Managing breakthrough research, a biotechnology startup, and university teaching while raising two young children requires what Gilbertie calls "forced balance."
When she picks up her children from daycare, everything else shuts off. "I do not pick up the phone. I do not answer emails. I am 100 percent their mom from 5:30 until 8 when they go to bed."
This philosophy extends to her students and research team. "I tell my Ph.D. students, do not text me in the evening,” Gilbertie said. “You should be taking your evenings for yourself. You should be taking your weekends — at least Saturday, go do something that has nothing to do with science."
The approach reflects lessons learned from her mentor Lauren Schnabel, who taught her that "the work will be there on Monday."
The road less traveled
Gilbertie's journey from determined 5-year-old to breakthrough scientist reflects the transformative power of mentorship — a principle she now champions with her own students.
Her path was shaped by pivotal figures, beginning with Terry Swecker, a longtime veterinary college faculty member and former director of the Virginia Tech Veterinary Teaching Hospital.
When Gilbertie didn't initially gain admission to veterinary school, she was bartending at Big Al's (now Centro) in downtown Blacksburg, serving some of the veterinary college's veteran faculty during their late Friday afternoon gatherings.
Swecker asked about her career plans, and when she mentioned her disappointment, he offered her a master's degree opportunity. "He really took a giant chance on me," she reflected. "I learned a lot about myself, about veterinary medicine, about research, just about being a capable student from my time with Terry."
That mentorship tradition continues through her work with students today. The Class of 2028 honored her as Outstanding Instructor — recognition that validates her teaching philosophy of making microbiology memorable through storytelling and clinical relevance.
"If I can get them just to remember that Baytril (enrofloxacin) is not a first-line antimicrobial, I would have done something right," she said modestly.
From a 5-year-old studying veterinary books to a scientist whose discovery may reshape infection treatment, Gilbertie's journey embodies the research university's mission of transforming lives through innovation.
Her path —from hobby farms to horse shows, from bartending downtown to building biotechnology companies — proves that breakthrough discoveries often emerge from unexpected intersections of experience and insight.
As antimicrobial resistance continues its relentless march across both veterinary and human medicine, researchers like Gilbertie offer hope through solutions that transcend traditional boundaries. Her work demonstrates that sometimes the most profound medical advances come not from following established protocols, but from pursuing "harebrained ideas" with the persistence to see them through.
At Virginia Tech, that future is taking shape one rescued horse at a time — and pointing toward applications that could transform medicine for every species, including our own.
With NIH funding already supporting human translation studies and the ability to produce BIO-PLY from human platelets, Gilbertie's "harebrained idea" may soon save human lives, as well as those of equine champions.
