New Preprint, Live!

Type-2-immune history imprints local training in nerve-airway associated interstitial macrophages (NAMs) for disease tolerance during respiratory viral infection

Super excited to share second part of my postdoc work. This project has occupied my heart, soul and mind for 4 long years. It has been a remarkable journey to get this work to fruition. This paper has some of my favorite experiments to date and has facilitated meeting some of the most brilliant minds in Trained Immunity, globally. Can’t wait to share the finished product but for now, this will have to do!

Have a read!

Click here to read the preprint on ResearchSquare

New review paper in eLife

Super excited to share my first review paper from my postdoc, also my first co-corresponding paper. It has been a true honor to be in the Trained Immunity community and doubly excited about having my review be part of the Focus Issue: Trained Immunity collective at eLife. The editorial team at eLife is simply fantastic and the reviewers were generous, thoughtful and enhanced the write up. Of course, Biorender makes it so easy to generate beautiful graphics for reviews, which is truly appreciated as a scientist and as a reader of scientific literature.

You can find the paper here: Innate immune memory: The evolving role of macrophages in therapy

You can find the Focus Issue here: Focus Issue: Trained Immunity

Consequences of trained immunity- host beneficial and maladaptive.

Trained immunity can be advantageous when enhancing host defense and disease outcomes after vaccination, β-glucan therapy, and viral, bacterial, or fungal infections, and even after exposure to select allergens or pollutants. Yet the same innate memory programs may turn maladaptive, exacerbating graft rejection, promoting atherosclerosis, fueling neurodegeneration, and driving autoimmune conditions such as rheumatoid arthritis. In case of cancer, consequences of trained immunity are context-dependent with leading to host-beneficial or host-detrimental outcomes. Image generated using BioRender.com

The GD T cell conference experience

First, and before I forget to tell you - give yourself the greatest gift of science and try to attend at least one Gamma Delta T cell conference before you give up on science. The amount of joy this cell type and the interactions with people working on these cells/ this field has brought me -is simply indescribable.

The biennial International Gamma Delta (γδ) T Cell Conference brings together scientists from around the world to share cutting-edge discoveries about γδ T cells—a unique and versatile group of immune cells involved in infection control, cancer surveillance, and inflammation regulation. This meeting fosters collaboration and innovation, advancing both fundamental knowledge and translational strategies to improve human health.

Held every two years, the conference traditionally alternates between Europe and the Americas, with occasional meetings in Asia. The most recent event—the 11th International γδ T Cell Conference—took place in Toronto from May 20–23, 2025, drawing approximately 350 attendees from academia and industry. While most participants came from the U.S., Canada, and Germany, there was strong representation from across the U.K., Europe, Asia, and the Pacific. Organized by Professor JC Zuniga-Pflucker, with support from Drs. Michele Anderson, Maria Ciofani, and a dedicated local organizing team (myself included), the Toronto meeting was one of the most memorable to date.

This marked my fourth time attending a γδ T cell conference (three in-person, one virtual), with the 2014 meeting in Chicago being my first. I vividly remember being surrounded by 300 people who worked on these fascinating cells—who were genuinely excited about posters and eager to talk science with trainees. I’ll never forget nervously approaching Karine Serre and Julie Ribot (then in Bruno’s lab) to rave about their work, and how patient and generous they were in response. Of all the meetings so far, the 2016 London conference had the deepest impact on me: I gave a short talk in the first session after Adrian’s opening seminar and, although my talk was only okay, the experience made me feel seen and connected to the community. I made many new science friends there—connections I still cherish today.

But Toronto? Toronto wins by a landslide. For so many reasons. First, I had massive FOMO from missing the Portugal 2023 meeting—something I may never fully recover from—so I arrived in Toronto with two years’ worth of bottled-up enthusiasm. Second, this was my first time contributing as a local organizer—helping with abstract reviews, judging assignments, and more—which gave me the chance to "sit at the grown-up table" and feel a deeper sense of belonging in the community.

Being at the Toronto meeting felt like coming home to family for a summer break—reuniting with the scientists I looked up to as a grad student and seeing their excitement for the next generation. There’s something deeply joyful about watching scientists in their element, rooting for their trainees, and celebrating the success of colleagues—even friendly competitors. It’s one of the most beautiful aspects of academia: learning how to be fiercely proud of others’ growth.

One thing we learned about the γδ T cell field in Toronto is that… there is no unifying theory. But perhaps the unifying force is that we’re all here, giving it everything we’ve got, trying to make a difference. Professor Erin Adams delivered a remarkable keynote on ligand recognition, revealing that around 20% of γδ T cells may rely on MHC presentation—a major conceptual leap. While, Professor Bruno Silva-Santos gave a masterful summary of 30 years of research, spanning development, infection, cancer, and therapy, and he showed just how much frontier remains to be explored. On the final day, as I looked around the packed lecture hall, I sensed a collective, quiet determination—everyone holding on tightly to a feeling of hope, knowing that after we all dispersed, we’d have to find our own ways to motivate ourselves. To nurture that inner science child, the one who still thrills at discovering something new. again and AGAIN.

My most favorite thing about the meeting was to see friends. Old friends, new friends, and those who will likely become my life long friends. I learned that everyone is slightly panicked.. slightly hopeful and somewhat unclear about what the future (next 2 years until next meeting) will look like. Whether it was a graduate student or a postdoc fellow beginning their journey.. or those who were finishing up. Whether it was someone who had transitioned into industry or had been there for far too long. This feeling of uncertainty was global and constant. It is comforting, in it’s own way, to think that if enough intellectuals choose to feel panicked about something - they will figure out a way to get us out of this mess as well.

So, I returned from Toronto feeling inspired, energized and jolted with hope. Not just for my future ..but for the future of science as a whole. Even if the paths look flinty at times. Even if those paths repeatedly lead us to a bar with Estonian folk musicians who dazzle us with (lengthy) songs. Even if we never can find a place to go dancing or karaoke in the rainy Toronto. Even if it means that we have to hunt 10 different coffee places to find the best cup of cap (Daily dose was great, btw). And, especially if it means that we have to watch our European friends suffer through “not so great” North American beers.. night after night… just so they can hang out with us to share life, science and everything that tethers them together. Even still.. we forge ahead!

So, until Poland 2027.. we will dance with the ghosts of these incredible memories from Toronto. Perhaps with a bruised soul at times.. maybe even w/ blistered feet at other times. But, dance, we will!

...the end of 2023

…we’ve come to an end of 2023, and what a year it has been!

One of my favorite things to do at the end of each year, especially in the week between Christmas and New Years is to look through the January pages of my lab notebook from that year.

I’ve been doing this subconsciously for years and while I’ve told myself the reasons were different each year. It is mostly to access the feeling of excitement, hope and “new beginnings” felt at the top of each year. One good thing about this exercise is that it relieves you from measuring yourself against traditional metrics of academic success.. such as published papers, acquired funding from grants and fellowships, citations, conference talks/presentations, invited talks, etc. Instead, it gives you a way to time-travel and access your unique creative process and measure the level of maturity of intellect that you nurture through the year from curiosity to bench.


One of the things I am most grateful for is the privilege to be an immunologist. I am not sure exactly when it all started for me, but this 18+ year journey of being an immunologist happened so organically and was never quite formalized. I remember the early days of being a technician at Sloan and just wondering what flow cytometry was all about. The ability to visualize specific markers on a cell seemed crazy and cool. Looking at cancer cells under the scope and seeing how they changed shape from a circular cell to a dendritic adhered cell on a tissue culture flask plastic.. it felt like magic. As I wrap up a couple of manuscripts for my postdoc and get ready to submit, I know it will be the end of the “training" phase of my academic career.


This week, I look back to all the late evenings of 2023, when I spend hours just staring at a piece of recent data on my second monitor. With the music in the background, view of east river outside my window.. sometimes the sanguine sunset, and sometimes the incandescent moon to join the party. Sometimes a cup of coffee and a piece of dark chocolate. But, almost ALWAYS, a version of..


“could it be?”
”shouldn’t it be?”
”Maybe it means…”
”that makes no sense! does it?”
”what was different this time?”
”I gotta repeat this!”
…and my personal favorite,

”THIS is f’ing awesome! I knew it!!!”

all of these little likely-nothings have made for some incredible and fundamental discoveries that I have (personally) made about basic lung immunology this year. As I give finishing touches to my manuscripts, I'm energized by these memories. Whether or not it will be published sooner or later will not change the level of satisfaction of figuring out some gaps. I know that it seems infantile to even articulate this, as most of us weather the highs and lows of bench science on a daily basis. But, no matter how many rejections and failures of academia we endure.. the half-life of those handful of successes in our career carry us through the decades and feed to our myopia.

So, as I wrap-up this annual reflection.. I raise my glass to all the incredible failures that are coming my way in 2024, with a promise to teach me ways to do a better, important and the most fantastic science.


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