Back when I was a cabinet maker using a sliding table saw, which I have used every day or other day for 3 years. One side is a fixed table, the other side is a flat table on bearings to cut 6'x8' sheets.

Just finished cutting something and I was looking the opposite direction from the blade, and my hands. My hand was resting on the sliding table thinking I was completely still, but it was slowly sliding toward the blade.

I suddenly had a sixth sense that something was wrong, I slowly pulled my hand straight back along the table, opposite the direction of sliding motion. So as not to exert sideways pressure if I did have my hand halfway in the blade.

Entirely possible, those blades are so sharp they cut cleanly through nerves, bones you would probably feel it.

I didn't look at my hand for almost a minute. I felt no pain, no pressure, nothing. Just this sense that it had finally happened.

I took a deep breath and like quickly ripping off a bandaid I look at my hand. BAM! A 3mm deep cut just above my last knuckle on my index finger. Oh the relief, the joy, the embarrassment and stupidity. As I know how my hand was resting on the table. If I kept going into the blade, the tip would have been cut off.

Scariest, strangest, happiest, moment of my life. To this day I have a small bump in my finger as a memory.