The house of healing, the ‘hospitel’ way
Hospitals have always made me uneasy. The smell of antiseptic, the faint hum of machines, the sense of urgency in every hallway. They are places we go to get better, yet somehow, they often make us feel worse.
There is even a name for it: nosocomephobia—an intense fear of hospitals that can trigger anxiety, panic attacks, and avoidance of medical care. It’s different from the fear of doctors (iatrophobia) or needles (trypanophobia). This fear is rooted in the hospital environment itself.
So imagine my surprise when I walked into Mount Elizabeth Novena Hospital last September, during a visit hosted by IHH Healthcare Singapore, and realized that it did not feel like a hospital at all.
A first impression that disarms
The marble floors gleamed. The air smelled faintly of flowers. The lobby hummed softly, more like a luxury hotel than a medical facility. Staff members moved with the calm attentiveness of a seasoned concierge team.
In one corner stood a grand piano, where a gentleman played Dahil Sa ’Yo, drawing smiles from our group.
That was when I learned the term they use with pride: “hospitel”—a fusion of hospital and hotel, capturing Mount Elizabeth Novena’s belief that care should be both clinically excellent and deeply humane.
Where design becomes therapy
CEO Sherrie Lim personally led our tour, and the first thing she pointed out wasn’t a machine or a medical breakthrough, but a design decision.
“Notice that patients and visitors never share lifts,” she said.
It is a simple yet powerful gesture, preserving dignity and calm for patients at their most vulnerable. At Mount Elizabeth Novena, architecture itself becomes part of the healing process. Rooms are soundproofed and thoughtfully laid out. Toilets are placed within ten steps of each bed.
Even the beds are subtly elevated on hidden stilts—an elegant choice that also improves hygiene and mobility.
Junior Suites, popular among new mothers, open onto bright balconies that allow natural light to flood the space. Higher up, the Presidential and Chairman Suites feature adjoining living rooms, giving families room to gather without disturbing a patient’s rest.
For heads of state and royalty, private lifts and discreet security alcoves allow seamless movement between surgery, ICU, and suite.
“Privacy is a form of comfort, too,” Lim explained.
Hospitality with heart
Luxury here never feels cold or performative. Whether a patient is a dignitary or a child, the care is warm and personal.
During our visit, Lim shared the story of Ieuan Magat, a young Filipino boy undergoing Proton Beam Therapy. After treatment, he craved one thing: salted egg squid.
It wasn’t on the menu.
Still, Mount Elizabeth Novena Hospital executive chef Wong prepared it especially for him.
“He loves it,” Lim said. “So we made it anyway.”
It is this instinct—to see the person before the patient—that defines the true spirit of the hospitel.
Quiet innovation, lasting impact
Technology works quietly in the background. Some rooms feature AI-powered thermal sensors that detect when a patient is about to get out of bed, helping prevent falls while preserving privacy. The system reads only heat signatures, never images.
Sustainability and inclusion are equally intentional. Single-use plastics have been replaced with recyclable cans. Nurses’ uniforms are repurposed into keepsakes. Toiletries are collected, refilled, and reused.
The hospital also partners with the Autism Resource Centre, training and employing individuals with autism across various operations.
“They’re incredible with detail,” Lim shared. The program is not just about inclusion, but about teaching empathy—among staff, patients, and visitors alike.
Redefining healing
At Mount Elizabeth Novena Hospital, healing is not defined solely by medicine or machines. It is shaped by sunlight through a balcony door, a favorite dish cooked off-menu, and the quiet assurance that you are seen, respected, and safe.
Because healing, I realized, often begins long before treatment does.
Sometimes, it starts the moment a hospital feels like home.
