Lariam is no longer sold under its brand name in the United States, and our military finally caved in to pressure and stopped prescribing it to the majority of its soldiers in 2009. But some are still getting it; lawyers for Staff Sgt. Robert Bales, who has pleaded guilty to killing 16 Afghan civilians in 2012, said he had taken the drug. And the generic version is still the third most prescribed anti-malaria drug here, with about 120,000 prescriptions written in the first half of this year.
Make no mistake: mefloquine does a good job protecting against malaria (and unlike some other anti-malaria drugs, it can be used during pregnancy and has to be taken only weekly). It just works at a significant risk, the full extent of which we're still discovering.
The new F.D.A. warning advises people taking mefloquine to call their doctor's office if they experience side effects. Fine advice, except that by the time most people — business travelers, Peace Corps volunteers, students studying abroad — start to notice the side effects, they are thousands of miles away, frequently out of cellphone service.
Most worrying of all, the announcement notes that the drug's neurological side effects — dizziness, loss of balance or ringing in the ears — may last for years, or even become permanent. I suspect that it's only a matter of time before that black box tells us that the psychiatric effects may become permanent too.
More than a decade has passed since my last dose of Lariam, and I still experience depression, panic attacks, insomnia and anxiety that were never a part of my life before.
We have a generation of soldiers and travelers with this drug ticking away in their systems. In June of last year, Remington Nevin, a former Army preventive medicine officer and epidemiologist, testified in front of a Senate subcommittee that he was afraid that Lariam "may become the 'Agent Orange' of our generation, a toxic legacy that affects our troops and our veterans."
Science is a journey, but commerce turns it into a destination. Science works by making mistakes and building off those mistakes to make new mistakes and new discoveries. Commerce hates mistakes; mistakes involve liability. A new miracle drug is found and heralded and defended until it destroys enough lives to make it economically inconvenient to those who created it.
Lariam is a drug whose side effects impair the user's ability to report those side effects (being able to accurately identify feelings of confusion means that you probably aren't that confused). The side effects leave no visible scars, no objective damage. But if Lariam were a car, if psychological or neurological side effects were as visible as broken bones, it would have been pulled from the market years ago.
It's a prescription I wish I had left unfilled.
David Stuart MacLean is the author of the forthcoming memoir "The Answer to the Riddle is Me."http://mobile.nytimes.com/2013/08/08/opinion/crazy-pills.html