The late comedian Joan Rivers used to joke that she was at an age when all her friends were dying. “And at their service, the minister says, ‘She’s gone to a better place.’ No, she didn’t. She had a house in the Hamptons!”

It’s gallows humour, but you get her point. There are some things in life about which you just have to laugh because the alternative is to cry in despair. Getting old and dropping dead is way up there on the list. Thankfully, my friends are all still alive and kicking, but I’m now at an age when my annual calendar includes a full medical health check-up.

How this happened is a complete mystery to me. One minute, I’m dancing on the bar counter at Elvis (if you know, you know), and the next, I’m squinting down the list of medical tests at Fullerton Health’s 12,000 sq ft Health Screening Centre in Novena wondering if I should have the prostate ultrasound or the stress ECG. Or maybe both, the neurotic, kiasi hypochondriac in me whispers. 

As medical facilities go, I might as well be in the Hamptons; it’s all so incredibly posh. Originally, I’d signed up for one of the 28 Health Screening Pods. On the Fullerton Health website, they look like Singapore Airlines’ Business Class seats: A private cocoon wrapped around comfy banquette, small desk slash tray and charging outlets.

All of which is – for me, at least – a huge step up from the usual impersonal offerings of just about every other medical health service in town to which I’ve subjected myself every year since I turned 40.   

You know the ones: Ugly fluorescent-lit waiting rooms filled with people who look vaguely unhappy or worried about what unspeakable horrors might be lurking in their stool sample. Fullerton Health, on the other hand, was co-designed by Scott Brownrigg, the designers behind hotels, airports and arts centres around the world. So, there’s that.

And rather than be forced to schlep from one impers...