It’s 7:30 a.m., and through the window behind the receptionist, I can see “patients” pumping on treadmills, flat-screen TVs flashing above them. Down the hall to my right is a coffee-and-juice bar; to my left, a day spa. And waiting to escort me to my appointment for a physical I—no kidding—my personal concierge.
Clearly, this is not your basic HMO.
I’m at One Nineteen Health and Wellness, a center that could prove to be the next trend in health care: doctors and nutritionists, plus a gym, spa, even child care—all under one roof. Unlike posh places like Canyon Ranch, where you can spend entire vacations, centers like One Nineteen are one-day affairs. And unlike smaller medi-spas, which offer doctor consultations for Botox and facial peels, these places provide the same services as most medical offices, making it possible to have, for instance, a mammogram and a massage, or a urinalysis and a yoga class.
Is it worth it?
Almost makes a Pap smear sound fun, I think. The more I hear about these one-stop wonders (experts estimate there are a handful nationwide), the more I want to know. So I eagerly accept my assignment to try out the doctors, the gym, and, oh yes, the spa.
My main question: Is it worth the cost? At One Nineteen, a hospital-owned center located in Birmingham, Alabama (Health’s hometown), your bill can soar. A bone-density scan, which checks for signs of osteoporosis, costs $200. And the Executive Physical, which includes up to 12 tests, nutrition advice, and a visit to the spa or gym, will knock you back a whopping $2,500. Plus, most screening tests aren’t covered by insurance.
I’ve got personal questions, too. I’ve been drop-dead tired for weeks. And my jeans are too tight. I don’t know which bothers me more. I’d long been treated for hypothyroidism, a condition that’s known to cause fatigue and weight gain. The last time I’d seen my doctor, my thyroid levels were OK but my iron was low. Severe anemia, he said. Yet despite iron supplements, I’m still dragging my wagon—and judging by my jeans, my wagon’s getting bigger every day.
A workup, plus extras
So my quest at One Nineteen begins with a checkup. The first plus: There’s no wait (patients are scheduled far enough apart to avoid delays, my concierge says). I fill out the standard questionnaire and meet the doctor, who discusses my medical history, listens to my heart, and seems to take my tired-and-fat woes seriously.
We start with the basics (step on the scale, pee in a cup) and work our way up to a stress test (to see how hard my heart can work), carotid ultra-sound (to make sure the arteries in my neck aren’t blocked), and heart CT scan (to do the same for my heart). I haven’t been hooked up to so many machines in, well, ever. One nice touch: no embarrassing hospital gown. I stay in my sweats, undressing just once for an EKG.
After lunch—pasta salad, iced tea, and pound cake with strawberries—it’s on to the dietitian. She confirms what my clothes have been telling me: I could shed a few pounds from my size-4 frame without being considered underweight. She totals the daily calories I’d need to lose weight—and it’s a measly 1,243. Do I exercise? Not very much, I confess. (Yes, I work at Health, but we can’t all be fitness divas.) If I would exercise more, I could eat more and still drop those pounds, she hints.
Fortunately, there’s light ahead: yoga and the spa. By the time I’ve done some downward dogs and relaxed with a massage, facial, and sugar body scrub (the yummy moisturizer is scented with blood oranges), my cares seem far away. I leave feeling and smelling delicious, sort of like a Dreamsicle.
The results are in
A week later, the doctor calls. Internally speaking, I’m in fabulous shape, he says. My cholesterol is fantastic, and my blood pressure is something to be awed. Even my stress test, for a tired 45-year-old, is good.
And I’m not anemic. Instead, my thyroid levels are low, and he wants to up my meds. I’m elated. Soon I’ll have more energy and, with a little luck (and more exercise), better-fitting jeans. I make a note to follow up with my regular doc, to make sure he’s OK with this advice.
That news alone makes the whole trip worthwhile. Since I’d already had my yearly thyroid check, I probably wouldn’t have seen my doctor for months. But this visit also makes me think: Even though I can’t afford such luxury care regularly, I can ask my doctors more questions. I can also stop living with warning signs and check them out instead. And every now and then, I can splurge on some Dreamsicle cream.
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