Krystle Hadd | Support SB433

Thank you for the opportunity to testify. My name is Krystle Hadd. I’m Parker’s mom. You just heard what epilepsy is like from the perspective of a child living through it. I want to share what it’s like from the parent side. Because what you don’t see in between those moments… is constant fear. When your child has epilepsy, you never fully relax. You don’t send them off to school assuming they’re safe like most parents do. You send them off knowing that at any moment, your child could have a medical emergency—and you have to trust that the adults around them will recognize it and respond correctly. And the truth is—too often, that doesn’t happen. Not because they don’t care… but because they haven’t been given the training. Epilepsy is still widely misunderstood, even though it is the fourth most common neurological disorder in the country. There are many different types of seizures and varying levels of seizure control. Some seizures are obvious, but many are not. Some look like a child simply staring off. Others escalate quickly, become life-threatening, and require immediate intervention with rescue medication. Parker shared a glimpse of what living with epilepsy is like—but that only scratches the surface. For several years, Parker experienced seizures daily. Like many families, we lived with the constant uncertainty of not knowing when the next one would come—or how severe it might be. He has needed rescue medication a few times in his life. Thankfully, those moments happened when he was already in a hospital, where trained professionals could respond immediately. But I think about what could have happened if those seizures occurred at school. Because when a seizure reaches that point—every second matters. Rescue medications are not optional in those moments. They are critical. They are what stop a seizure from continuing, from escalating and causing serious harm. For a long time, Parker was prescribed Diastat—a medication administered rectally. It requires training, confidence, and a willingness to act quickly in a high-stress moment. And without training, even the most well-intentioned adult may hesitate. They may wait too long. Or they may not know how to administer the medication at all. That hesitation can change everything. And what many people don’t realize is that families are often left to fill that gap themselves. At every school Parker has attended, we’ve had to educate teachers and staff about his condition. We’ve had to explain what his seizures look like, what to watch for, and what to do in an emergency. We’ve made sure he has a seizure action plan in place so that everyone understands the protocol. But that level of preparation is not standard everywhere. It depends on the school. It depends on the staff. And too often—it depends on the parent pushing for it. Safety should not depend on how much a parent knows to advocate or how much a school happens to be familiar with epilepsy. It should be consistent. As a parent, that reality follows you everywhere. Your phone rings—and your heart drops every single time. Because you don’t know if this is a routine call… or if something has gone very wrong. And this is not rare. In New Hampshire, there are approximately 1,500 children and teens living with epilepsy. At the same time, there are about 347 students for every one school nurse. So when a seizure happens, the responsibility often falls to teachers, coaches, and school staff. And yet—there is no consistent requirement that they are trained to recognize or respond to one of the most common medical emergencies in our schools. That doesn’t make sense. And I want to be clear—this is not a criticism of our educators. They are being put in an impossible position. Witnessing a seizure is terrifying—and it never gets easier. For someone who has never seen one before, it can be traumatic. And in that moment, not knowing what to do only makes it worse. Our teachers and staff deserve better. They deserve the training and preparation so that in that moment, they are not guessing—they are ready. Because in that moment, their response matters. We train for fires—events that may never happen. But seizures are happening every single day in our schools. And right now, whether someone knows what to do… is left up to chance. This bill changes that. This bill is not complicated. It’s not controversial. It’s basic preparedness. As a parent, I can tell you—nothing matters more than knowing your child will be protected when you are not there. I’m asking you—please pass this bill. For my child, for every child living with epilepsy, and for every parent who sends their child to school carrying this same fear. Thank you