My name is Charay Gadd. I live in Michigan, USA. My 12-year-old daughter, London Izabella-Ryén Gadd, lost her life after being prescribed Prozac.

London was bright, tender, artistic, and deeply empathetic. She did well in school and was often a favorite student among her teachers — not just because she was intelligent, but because she was kind, attentive, and thoughtful. She loved her family fiercely and cherished our time together, especially our trips to Mexico, which held a special place in her heart. She dreamed of joining the Air Force one day and becoming a commercial pilot. She loved reading, drawing, playing soccer year-round, and making people laugh. She felt everything deeply. That depth was part of what made her beautiful — and part of what made her vulnerable.

In October 2023, London was admitted to Pine Rest. I received daily calls encouraging me to start her on medication. I repeatedly refused, explaining that we were addressing possible nutrient deficiencies and using vitamins that appeared to be helping. I believed we should look at root causes before medication. I was eventually told she “had to be on something for a few days” before she could be released. That statement did not feel like collaborative medical care. It felt like pressure.

She was placed on 5 mg of Prozac. After five days, she told me she hated how it made her feel. She didn’t feel like herself. I trusted her, and I stopped it.

No black box warning counseling was ever provided to me. An informed consent form was later found bearing my signature on a verbal consent line, but I never saw that document, and no risks or warnings were discussed or explained to me.

In July 2024, London was again admitted inpatient. Her diagnosis was initially documented as suicidal ideation. When insurance denied continued coverage, the diagnosis was changed to “no harm to self.” She was again prescribed Prozac. No pharmacogenetic testing was offered. There was no meaningful discussion about the increased suicide risk in children during the early weeks of SSRI treatment. There was no structured follow-up medication monitoring after discharge.

Nearly 25 hours before she died, London reached out to friends. About 18 hours before her death, she contacted her counselor. We were never notified. No one alerted us that she was escalating or in distress.

The night she took pills, she told us she was not trying to kill herself — she said she just wanted to hurt her stomach. A 12-year-old does not understand the finality of overdose. She did not understand that pills could stop her heart.

We took her to the hospital believing she would be safe. We walked in trusting that we were in the right place, that trained professionals would act quickly and decisively. Poison Control was contacted, but no recommendations were relayed to us. Activated charcoal was not administered. Her stomach was not pumped. She died.

Prozac carries a black box warning for increased risk of suicidal thoughts and behaviors in children and adolescents, particularly in the first weeks of treatment. I was never warned. Since losing London, I have learned that medication monographs and prescribing information differ across countries. Some international monographs include pharmacogenomic information and clearer acknowledgment of metabolic differences and pediatric exposure risks. That information is not always placed as prominently in U.S. prescribing materials. I believe that when monographs are updated anywhere in the world to reflect new safety or pharmacogenomic information, those updates should be reflected worldwide so that every parent receives the same level of transparency and protection.

I have learned how metabolic differences can significantly alter drug levels. I have learned how insurance decisions can influence diagnoses. I have learned how limited monitoring can be after psychiatric medication is prescribed to a child.

Most of all, I have learned that parents trust the system to protect their children. We assume warnings will be clearly explained. We assume risk will be monitored. We assume that if our child reaches out for help, someone will call us.

London loved deeply. She was loved beyond measure. She should still be here — reading, drawing, playing soccer, planning her future in the sky.

I am now fighting for London’s Law — legislation that would require non-drug interventions first, mandatory pharmacogenetic testing before psychiatric prescriptions, full black box warning counseling for parents, and stronger monitoring and accountability in youth mental health care.

I share her story because informed consent must be real. Root causes must be evaluated. Warnings must be clearly disclosed. Monitoring must be required. And when a child reaches out for help, someone must answer.



BIO:

Charay Gadd-Spencer is a mother, advocate, and founder whose work is rooted in love, truth, and accountability. After the tragic loss of her daughter, London Izabella-Ryén Gadd, Charay turned unimaginable grief into purposeful action. She has become a strong voice for child safety, genuine informed consent, and root-cause approaches to mental health care.

Charay is the founder of The London Effect, which is becoming a nonprofit, and the driving force behind London’s Law — a legislative and advocacy initiative dedicated to protecting children through non-drug, evidence-based interventions, genetic and biological awareness, stronger medical transparency and accountability, and advancing medication monograph language that she believes should be aligned and exercised worldwide.