And with every broken bone, I lived

Sharing what I alluded to and was struggling with in the above blog post.
I have to keep reminding myself that tears aren't a sign of weakness.
There'll only be more tears coming, too. In my prayers.
Out of gratefulness and a host of other feelings, emotions, and yes, struggles.
And post-operatively.

Hope when you take that jump, you don't fear the fall
Hope when the water rises, you built a wall

The logistics and details:
On July 24th, my 22nd birthday--I'll be having a surgery called a periacetabularosteotomy to correct my right hip and give me upwards of 15-20 years pain-free on that side. A pelvic MRI determined that if I wanted to wait till next summer to have this surgery done, I would lose the window of time for the doctor to perform this surgery successfully. This is due to the dysplasia and the arthritis. My left hip is too far out of the socket (dysplasia, essentially) and too arthritic to do anything but steroid shots and one day, a replacement.
Suffice it enough to say I'm striving to embrace this as a miracle from God dropped in my lap unexpectedly. 
It is. There's no if's, and's or but's about it. It's a miracle, this surgery.
This time next year over half my pain will be gone.

And I hope that you don't suffer but take the pain
Hope when the moment comes, you'll say...
I, I did it all

My heart:
My heart feels like it's getting off a rollercoaster. I have varied from angry, resentful, heartbroken, flabbergasted, humbled, knocked-flat amazed, and back to resentful. It's not for the fact that on my 22nd birthday I won't ever have to hear the Taylor Swift song by the same name, thank God since I'll be having surgery. It's because this surgery means I'm missing a huge, once in a lifetime event for my best friend in the fall when I'll still be healing. It means, but not really, I am becoming a major imposition to my family and coworkers and will be physically unable to do what I normally do, serve and help and pitch in as I normally do for three long months.
But. I will have less than half the pain I've resigned myself to and lived, and I think thrived through the last eleven years since my diagnosis. I don't know what that'll look like. In my ugly moments I think all it'll mean is more hours at work and able to serve more at home and at church. But the truth is I don't know, but God does and His plan is perfect and far beyond my close-minded imaginings for when I'm on my feet again.
With every broken bone, I swear I lived.
I, I did it all
I owned every second that this world could give
I saw so many places, the things that I did
With every broken bone, I swear I lived.

This One Republic song I've pieced through out this post have become somewhat of an anthem for me. That and Hillsong's, God is Able. This surgery will change my life. It's so clearly only for my good. Straight from God. And after my broken bones heal, I'll keep on living. Through the pain that's gotten worse the last eleven years, by God's grace, I've lived them. My hip condition hasn't stopped me by far. The limitations have been frustrating, sure, as will the stricter limitations after surgery when I'm recovering.
But as I sit back and recount all I've done, all God's done, the last eleven years...I'm stunned.
The song talks about owning every second, seeing so many places and doing so much.
I've traveled across the country almost ten times. And yes I'm counting Gettysburg. I have made the best of friends. I graduated high school with honors. I got my job dropped in my lap with many blessings and rewards. I took that Honors, English distinction and turned it into a career. I self published a novel. 
Can you see why this song is my anthem for this surgery coming up in a little less than eight weeks now?
Meghan M. Gorecki
Meghan M. Gorecki

Words, history, and grace color my days here in The Burgh where I seek out the perfect coffee and red lipstick.