I went backpacking with two women friends one weekend. Luckily we only hiked in a couple of miles, as Saturday morning I managed to slice open my hand with my brand-new Buck knife. OOps! Bloody mess, and I looked to my friends for help but they were in various states of panic and fainting. So I applied pressure while I told them where to find the first aid kit and showed them how to apply a pressure bandage. We stowed our gear into the tents, hiked back to the car, drove to the hospital, I got 8 stitches, then we went to dinner at a nice restaurant. I had a few glasses of wine (medicinal of course), and the meal did beat the stuff we had in camp. Then we drove back to the trailhead and hiked back to the tents with our flashlights. Everything was (fortunately!) just as we had left it.
I've often thought that if one of the others had been willing/able to take the lead, I would have been more shaky or maybe b###hed or cried or something, but I was pretty much on my own so other than a few choice swear words I stayed pretty calm through the whole thing.
That was (still is) one sharp knife.