Just one more month?

So, we got swabbed yesterday. 

And apparently, because they're only checking for the exact mutation that Lulu has, we'll have results in a month.  Wow. 

And, of course, like all other people who like to pretend to know what it's like to live my life without never actually lived it, the genetic counselor actually told us to make an emergency plan.

LIKE I DON'T HAVE ONE.  PLEASE. 

Also, as I do EVERY MOTHERLOVING TIME a person in a lab coat (or, in this case, in close proximity to a person in a lab coat) I pointed out that I can't tell an emergency room doctor what to do. 

Or, rather, that I can try, but they will never, ever, ever, ever (you picking this up, Taylor Swift?) listen to me.

So, they promised to write a letter that I can carry with me that explains what drugs not to use on Lulu.  It's better, but I'm not convinced that this is awesome because it's an EMERGENCY.  Who has time to read a letter? 

So, anyway, that has inspired me to start a series on this blog called "emergency preparedness" for the parents of twitchy kids. 

Yes, I know the four of you who read this blog don't have twitchy kids.  But one day, I hope that some mom who is just at her wit's end will stumble across me and find a little sanity and humor in the great land of epilepsy management. 

Also, some possible bad news/good news/good news?  I think Lucy had a seizure today.

That's the bad news.  The good news?  That I'm not sure.  See, normally, Lucy's seizures are like being in labor (if you think you're in labor, you are not in labor.  You will KNOW when you are in labor.  So will everybody in a -mile radius.  But I digress.)  But today, she stilled (tonic) and then her left leg began a rhythmic movement, just for about 7 seconds (partial focal seizure?)  and then (good news again) IT STOPPED ON ITS OWN.  Which is awesome.  Lucy's seizures, like, never do that.