Pre.

I'm about 2 hours from having my yearly MRI. It always comes mid December, and it usually serves as my last MS medical stop for the year. This year is a little different, as my last infusion for this year is next Wednesday.
The MRI always gives me pause for thought. The first time I was ever put in one, in 1992, I freaked and had to be taken out. The machine was in a dark, clammy room, which poured out my worst nightmares as it clanked into life. This was during my hospital stay at The National Hospital For Neurology and Neurosurgery in Queen Square in London, when my MS was diagnosed. They got me back into the machine a day later, and I haven't freaked out since. To be honest the worst thing they did was the Spinal Tap, which I still wince about to this day.
The reason the MRI is freaky is that you are told going in that you cannot get out of the machine yourself. I had an MRI in LA years ago, and spent the entire time thinking,
"What if there's an earthquake?"
I kind of know what the result is going to be.
"Well it hasn't got any/much worse."
A nice game you can play is trying to get the people taking the MRI to tell you what they think.
"You've been watching, what d'ya reckon?"
They are not allowed to tell you, though you can get them to cough appropriately as you run though the options.
Ah well, time for a coffin kip.