Before his injury Eric could and would eat just about anything he wanted. Burgers, barbecue, baked ziti _ his grandma’s is best, though his mom’s will do _ cookies and cake.
But after his injury, LeGrand’s appetite went away and his weight dwindled to 196 pounds. He hadn’t been that light since his freshman year of high school.
Karen was worried sick that her big baby boy was wasting away. Now she’s worried that he’s going to eat himself out of that wheelchair. He’s up to 240 and looks like a football player again, thick in the chest and legs.
But he needs to keep his weight under 242 to be able to do certain rehabilitation exercises involving treadmills and harnesses.
So, yes, he can have a treat today, but it has to be one of those 100 calorie cookie packs.
“She gives me like one cookie every other day,” he says. “I got to start fighting to get something out of her.”
When they get to Kessler, a passer-by does a double-take as he walks by the minivan, stops, turns back and leans into the open door.
“I’ve been praying for you,” the man says.
This happens a lot, the LeGrands say.
“I’m famous,” Eric says with a smile as he rolls into Kessler.
Mom gets a break while Eric is at rehab. Karen goes to get lunch and maybe does some shopping or errands. Before she goes, she straightens his shirt, pushes back a couple of his dreadlocks and sends him on his way.