17,763 feet. Nepal. That's where I was supposed to be last December, but instead I spent it at Sitaram Bhartia Hospital, with two massive tubes attached to my knee. The white light flickered while I waited apprehensively for the final report.The smell of chlorine was overpowering. My mother was asleep by the time the doctor appeared. "How bad is it?" I asked. "As bad as possible. You'll need a second surgery immediately." Doctor said, coldly. I tore my Anterior Cruciate...