The Tick on the Boy...and the Boy in the Tent...
The other day my ten-year-old son dutifully downed his last dose of doxycycline. (How’s that for alliteration?) He’d taken it twice daily for 28 days and he was glad to be done with it. This is not to say that he didn’t tolerate it well. Sure, it caused a few stomachaches, and some of those hit at incredibly inopportune times (I found him doubled over on the bench during one of his soccer matches). But those were relatively infrequent. On the other hand, it turned his face scarlet red. We had been told that it might cause photosensitivity and, true to the warning on the label, it made him burn to a crisp on even the most overcast of days. I slathered him with sunscreen and made him wear a baseball cap, but it was no use. He looked like a ripe tomato, but he was a happy tomato nonetheless. Fortunately, the berry-flavored formula I got for him (doxy is not recommended for children under 8 so it took some work to find a ...