EAST ST. LOUIS, Ill. Ethel Sylvester dialed 911, trembling with fear. The 92-year-old felt hot. She thought turning off her thermostat could fix the problem. That didnt help.
Alone in her apartment, in the middle of the night, Sylvester didnt know what was happening to her body. She feared it was COVID-19. Her neighbor and twin sister, Edna Mayes, had no idea her best friend was in trouble.
I couldnt get to the door, said Sylvester, recounting last months incident. I was shaking, just shaking.
Paramedics rushed her to St. Louis University Hospital where the staff determined that Sylvester had of COVID-19 but instead had a case of high blood pressure and anxiety.
Now, Sylvesters children say the trauma of living through the pandemic has taken a toll on their mothers mental health. The onslaught of coronavirus news and warnings had consumed Sylvesters thoughts, her daughter Ruth Sylvester explained.
Because watching the news made the twins upset, they stopped. Still, the fear of contracting the virus continued to overwhelm Sylvester.
She tried to toss medicine into her mouth without touching her face. Instead of sipping water from a cup or using a straw, Sylvester said, she poured it down her throat to avoid contact with her dishware, and somewhere along the way she decided that canned soup was the safest thing to consume during the pandemic.
In need of more nourishment, she became weak. She weighed 113 pounds when she was released from the hospital in March. Her daughter Myra Ward said her mom had lost about 15 pounds.
I wasnt eating because I thought thats what youre supposed to do, Sylvester said. I wasnt washing my face or nothing like that.
She had reason to be worried. Older people are dying of COVID-19 at higher rates worldwide. And, in Illinois, people of color like Sylvester and Mayes, who are black, accounted for at least and 57% of deaths as of Wednesday, while making up only .
But Sylvester desperately needed help. The paranoia itself was what was hurting her, she and her family now say.
Her twin sister, Edna Mayes, noticed how excessive Sylvesters cleaning regimen had become. Sylvester, a former housekeeper whos always kept a tidy house, admitted she couldnt stop wiping things down. Every time she touched her remote control, for example, Sylvester would clean it, then wash her hands.
Ethel would go overboard, said Mayes, sitting next to her sister. Shes still doing it.
By the time Sylvesters daughters traveled from Texas to check on her health, Sylvesters hands were worn and dry from constant washing. Her daughter tried to rejuvenate them with oil.
She was extremely paranoid, Ward said. She didnt know what she could touch.
Sylvesters anxiety is not uncommon. Nearly about the possibility of contracting COVID-19, according to a poll released last month by the American Psychiatric Association. More than 60% are worried about friends or family members becoming infected.
As COVID-19 continues to spread, Sylvester doesnt want to replace the in-home care worker she lost a few months ago because of concerns about having a new person in her home. And her sister might lose her regular care provider amid uncertainty in the home health care industry.
So these two sisters are also relying on family and each other, just as they've done since they were children, while community volunteers and health professionals in East St. Louis come up with a game plan to help seniors and families in need.
Our daddy denied us, so, coming up, we had to be close, Mayes said. Wed love each other if didnt nobody else loved us.
Their mother taught the twins to look out for each other. The sisters became neighbors two years ago when Mayes moved into the public housing complex that Sylvester has called home for more than 60 years. Their version of FaceTime doesnt require a camera. Instead, Mayes walks to her back door when theyre on the phone. That way they can wave at each other.
We love each to death, Sylvester said. Were normal, healthy twins. We never hit each other, never cuss each other. We have disagreements. We never went to bed mad.
Lately, sleepovers have solidified their bond. Mayes spends the night in a chair at Sylvesters apartment, watching over her sister as she regains her strength. A neighbor takes the day shift.
A granddaughter cooks for them each week. And Sylvesters 63-year-old son, Sanchez Sylvester, who also lives in the same housing complex, helps them with food, too, even though he has underlying conditions that put him at risk.
Sanchez Sylvester said he understood how concerned his mother was the day she tried to disinfect him with bleach and water as he entered her house.
She said, Hold it right there, her son recalled. She sprayed me!
Thats why hes trying to point out positive stories of recovery to his mother and aunt.
His sister, Myra Ward, meanwhile, said she often offers to relocate her mom and aunt from East St. Louis to San Antonio, Texas. The sisters always turn down the invitation.
They dont want to leave East St. Louis or the Samuel Gompers Homes public housing complex that is home. But as a longtime advocate for residents of East St. Louis, Ethel Sylvester hopes more people will take time to listen to the needs of seniors long after the pandemic ends.
With all of this stuff going around, we old folk feel lost, Sylvester said. We dont know where we are going and we dont know what to do.
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