Like perfect teeth

I once believed a person could remain that self-same person even if they lost their bodily faculties. A fallacy exposed. How can I possibly credit that belief with any veracity now? I stand on altered ground. Experience has modified belief. The things we do define who we are. What I do, visibly expresses who I am. How can I wholly express who I am without the ability to do? This question begs another: Who, exactly, am I? The 'language' I once used to express myself has been thwarted in its flow. My 'vocabulary' has been largely reduced. In essence, I have been reduced. The accompanying sense of loss is immeasurable. Expressions of ‘me’, developed over a lifetime, have been forcibly and unjustifiably extracted. Like perfect teeth.

Artist/Modigliani