THE ‘PRIVATE JET’ OF HEALTH CHECKS

Fashion director Oonagh Brennan tries the Echelon Platinum Health Assessment Optimum Package

‘Count me in!’ I enthuse, when my editor asks if I’d be interested in reviewing a health assessment for the magazine. I have visions of detoxing in the Alps wearing dark glasses, wrapped in a cashmere blanket, drinking green juice while I await news of my magnesium levels. What a treat!

Fast-forward to a few days later and I’m at home doing a very unglamorous colon cleanse (which involves drinking a nose-wrinklingly disgusting liquid and being very close to the loo at all times) with the prospect of a full day of scarysounding medical tests ahead of me. I’ve been instructed to eat a low-fibre diet for two days, which means no wholegrains, vegetables, fruit, nuts or seeds, followed by a 24-hour fast. Apparently, this powerful cleansing mixture will purge my bowel in order to provide a clear view during my upcoming procedure. I’ve been assigned the £14,000 Echelon Optimum Package, which includes the Platinum Health Assessment – and, if I’m honest, I’m terrified (and starving).

This is the medical assessment to end all medical assessments: it includes every test you could possibly think of, from blood tests to MRIS and CT scans, and claims to detect 96% of the leading causes of premature death in women (92% in men).

As an anxious person, forever Googling ‘signs you might have [insert latest worry]’, I like the idea of understanding what is going on in my body and putting some worries to rest – like whether the cigarettes I smoked in my 20s have permanently damaged my lungs. But I’m also scared that it could reveal something I’m not ready to deal with. Is it better to live in ignorant bliss?

I briefly consider running away when my chauffeur (included in the

price) drops me off at 68 Harley Street. But my fears quickly dissipate when I’m delivered into the caring hands of Hannah, Echelon’s client liaison manager, who will keep me laughing and looked-after throughout the day. The clinic is in a traditional Victorian townhouse with a grand and stylishly decorated waiting room that feels more like a welcoming hotel lounge.

Here, I fill out a detailed questionnaire about my health, alongside my family history and lifestyle information, before getting started with a full-body mole screening. Next, I gear up for my heart and abdomen CT scan, which checks everything from my lungs to my spleen, pancreas and kidneys. Lying on the scanner covered in wires, I am given a beta-blocker to slow down my heart rate (daunting enough in itself, since I generally try to avoid taking medication), while my veins are injected with a strange dye to show up my internal organs. This momentarily gives me the sensation of burning inside and I feel as if I’ve wet myself – perfectly normal, I’m told, but no less disconcerting for that.

Over a five-hour period, I make my way through a colonoscopy (not as bad as I had feared, although being pumped full of gas was a little uncomfortable); a 45-minute MRI on the brain (made bearable by metal-free headphones playing soothing classical music); a full bone and skeleton scan; blood tests to check liver and kidney function, blood count, thyroid levels, hormones and cholesterol; and a thyroid ultrasound.

‘IT INCLUDES EVERY TEST YOU COULD THINK OF… PLUS A NIGHT IN A FIVE-STAR HOTEL’