LOL... OK, time to fess up.
I have been totally fearless all my life, used up my 9 lives by the time I started school. So how I've survived nearly 6 1/2 decades with all the close calls is beyond me. None with firearms as per se... as in no serious injuries. The 22LR Zipgun I was shot with in a street fright as a teen was just a nuisance, I didn't even go to a doctor. My one and only with a firearm that got my attention was 40 odd years ago... an old 10GA double hammer gun a buddy brought along on a pheasant hunt that he wanted to sell because he wasn't sure of it. Figured it'd be fun for waterfowl at the give away price of $65, it was beautiful and looked to be in fine condition so I was interested. We were standing on a levee between the cotton fields we'd hunt. I loaded both barrels, cocked both hammers (dumb #1), put the butt against my rear hip and turned away to shoot it... one barrel at a time. But like a total idiot had two fingers on both triggers (way more than super dumb #2). Yep, a double bang, and I ended up knocked down off the levee and on my butt in the nastiest gumbo mud in the state. Didn't hurt the shotgun at all, it was solid as a rock. To add insult to injury, embarrassment and pride it was at the start of the days hunt. I limped all day in that sticky mud, so sticky it built up fast and thick and you had to constantly scape it off your boots to even keep walking. We were both worn ragged by the end of the day, but I'm sure I was hurting a little more than my buddy was. Yes I bought the gun, the body was fine in a couple of days, I was a little smarter (or less careless). The shotgun was kept for a lot of years as a reminder (well, also because it was so deadly for goose hunting).
Meow