Legal Representation for OPM Disability Retirement: Later editions

Later editions are never as valuable as the First Edition, unless of course something additional has occurred, like the author’s inscription and signature, or a typeset error which is limited in number, or perhaps a reissuance but for a “limited number”, and sometimes as an “anniversary” reprinting, especially and again, if the author or progenitor has signed such a copy.

People follow upon such objects of value; for, as such artifices are mere human conventions, the behavior towards such creations reflect the conduct of man towards his fellow man.  Thus do we treat “later editions” with reduced fanfare; the old are replaced by the new every day, and “first editions” — of a new employee, a rising star and other more recent arrivals — are accorded greater degrees of “oohs” and “ahhhs”.

One might counter that “First Editions” should instead be identified, as a metaphor for human beings, as those who have remained for the longer period of time, and not accorded such status to newcomers; it is those who “come after” who are the second or third impressions, and should be acknowledged as “less valuable”, and not more.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition prevents the Federal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, it is often the case that your “value” to the Federal Agency or the Postal Facility seems to have diminished as Second editions and Third impressions come upon the scene.

Look at the beauty of First Edition books, for example — often with some wear, and maybe even a tear, but it is the worn state of condition that is often compensated for by the years of experience for which the deteriorated condition can be valued, yet does the “bookseller” treats the later editions as more “valuable” than the stated First Edition?

Medical conditions are likened to the worn look of a First Edition book, whether signed or not, in this society where it is the Second or Third Editions that are too often treated with greater respect.  If that is the case, then it is time to consider preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

Perhaps that dusty old First Edition will be better appreciated elsewhere, all the while receiving a Federal Disability Retirement annuity and growing in value.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement Help: The Man from Mars

It is a strangeness that cannot be avoided.  Sort of like Thomas Nagel’s famous philosophical essay, “What is it like to be a bat — for a bat?”  It is the “for a bat” that makes all of the difference; for, as Nagel himself pointed out, it is easy to imagine what it is like to be a bat — i.e., have wings, fly in the dark of night, screech, eat bugs, etc.  However, the uniqueness of actually being another creature — of having a separate and distinct perspective from that of a human, man-centered purview — is something that we will never be able to achieve.

Others, like those in Daniel Dennett’s camp, counter that there is no Searle-like “ghost in the machine”, and that consciousness is merely comprised by the aggregate of the neurological connections that make up the human body, and there is nothing metaphysical beyond the physical, no “trans” or “meta” existence beyond the firing of neurons and wired transmitters — in other words, the uniqueness of an individual is nothing beyond what we see and experience.

The cynic, of course, would look at the neanderthal that we have become, where we stare into our Smartphones like zombies and laugh uproariously as the crudest of jokes, and nod in agreement.  But what of the experiences of the extraterrestrial — does that shed any further light upon the issue?

Take, for example, the concepts explored in works like, The Man who Fell to Earth, starring David Bowie, or Robert Heinlein’s story of science fiction, “Stranger in a Strange Land” — where an alien culture and perspective meets with the consciousness of the banality found on earth; is it any different than when Native Americans first saw the ships appear upon the horizon of the Americas?  What is the natural response of the Man from Mars, and what is our response when confronted by an alienation of cultures, processes or foreign encounters?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the strangeness of the experience itself is often daunting, at least in two or three ways: First, the medical condition itself is a phenomena that is alien, where previously the Federal or Postal employee was a healthy, vibrant individual.  Second, the fact that the Federal or Postal employee cannot “do it all” is another foreign concept that one has to adjust to, and that is often difficult enough.  And Third, the experience of meeting adversity and sensing a negative reaction by one’s own Federal Agency or the Postal Facility one works at — that, too, is a foreign and alien experience, where before the Federal or Postal employee felt like he or she was a member of that “team”, and now the treatment accorded is one likened to a plague or infectious disease.

Preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether he Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is often an experience likened to the Man from Mars — and because of this, the Federal or Postal employee who needs to consider Federal Disability Retirement might want to consult with a tour guide, otherwise known as an attorney who specializes in the attractive sights on Mars and within the purview of the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal & Postal Disability Retirement: Weight of evidence

When you walk into a room full of people, how does one differentiate, define, separate and discern?  Remember that once-popular fictional work entitled, Tarzan of the Apes by (originally) Edgar Rice Burroughs?

There is a scene (whether from one of the various versions depicted on screen) where young Tarzan is surrounded by a crowd of “civilized” individuals staring, prodding, looking on with curiosity — and the young man who had been brought up in the wild lacks the capacity to compartmentalized the sudden bombardment of overstimulation, and runs amok amidst the finery of a social setting.

How is it that we learn to differentiate and categorize from among the massive aggregate of stimuli directed at us?  Do we, as Kant posits, impose mental categories upon the chaos of the world?  How do we learn to determine the “weight” of importance, significance or even of relevance upon the various activities that surround, impart and become directed at ourselves or around and about our purview?

And in the legal context, how do we know what weight of evidence should be submitted, and how to organize it into a priority of relevance?

You know the old joke — or is it merely a “trick”? — Of telling a person to “listen carefully,” and misleading the listener into thinking that the question you will be asking concerns the number of people left, when in fact you are deliberately misguiding them, saying: “Now 5 people entered the elevator and it went up 2 floors, then 3 people got off and 5 more got on, then the elevator went up again 2 more floors, where 1 person got on and…”.  At the end of the “story”, the question posed is not, “How many people are left?”, but instead, “What floor are you on”?

The evidence for both are there; it is the weight upon the relevant information that was missed.

Or, of that eccentric oddball who watches an action-packed movie or episode, and at the end of it, while everyone is commenting about this or that favorite scene of explosions, mayhem and bad-guy-got-his-due scene, the odd-man-out says, “Yes, I thought that the person who wore the yellow tie should have retied it, because it was a bit crooked.”

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, it is important to recognize the weight of evidence, the relevance of the information submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, and the significance of guiding OPM into viewing the evidence with a roadmap of persuasion.

Legal memorandums that delineate the evidence compiled, argue the law that is persuasive, and preemptively organizes the basic components in answering “why” a client is eligible — nay, entitled — to Federal Disability Retirement benefits, is important in light of the variety of evidence being submitted, not only by the applicant, but also by the Agency or the Postal Facility (which is not always favorable).

Is the Federal Disability Lawyer you have consulted or are about to consult, doing this?

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS Disability Retirement Claims: Determined Lives

Can it be viewed in at least two different ways and meanings?  Of a life that involves determination — i.e., in the sense of forcefulness, enduring faith and strength of character?  Or, in another sense, of being already fated, without choices or options to consider?

Thus are determined lives characterized, and bifurcated into two camps of perspectives, although the one is not exclusive of the other by necessity.

Most people experience both sets of experiences, often intersecting with one another depending upon the circumstances faced.  In some set of circumstances, one may have complete control over the direction and purposive intent of one’s life, activities involved and goals to be met — and by sheer determination, one may in fact accomplish and meet those desired ends.

Then, there are times and contexts when one’s life seems to be determined — where the control of one’s future is not within the purview of one’s own desire or effort, but by some distant force of persuasion cannot be easily influenced by one’s own will and determination.  A medical condition is one such instance.  One has no control over the fact of a medical condition, only of its effects and consequences, and even that, much of it is left in the hands of a doctor or specialist.

Loss of control — of living a determined life (second meaning) as opposed to a determined life (first meaning) — is a feeling that no one desires, and for Federal and Postal employees who sense that the loss of control is expanding into other areas of one’s life — as in one’s employment, ability to maintain a working schedule, and the loss of capacity to perform all of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job: it may be time to consider preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

The distinction may be a subtle one — of living a determined life (second sense) or a determined life (first sense) — but the distinction may make all the difference in the world, depending upon what your next steps are.  Consult with an attorney who specializes in helping Federal employees obtain Federal Disability Retirement benefits in order to avoid the determined life (second sense), and attain a determined life (first sense).

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement Representation: Life’s Analogy

We make analogies of everything in life, but where is life’s analogy?  Human beings learn by analogy or metaphor; sometimes of a simile, but whatever the comparison or explanation, it is almost always by illustrative contrast that knowledge is gained.

How do you teach a child how to write well?  By starting with good literature.  How does one grasp the concept of a universe so small as to defy understanding of its basic molecular structure?  By use of models and diagrams.  And how does one realize the value of integrity and honesty?  Certainly, by reading and understanding definitions and concepts, but more effectively, by example.

But where is life’s analogy?  Or, is “life” too grand and unwieldy a concept to have an analogy — especially because “life” encompasses the entirety of all of the phenomenal experiences and stimuli that bombards us, and thus refuses to become segmented and bifurcated into bits of slices such that there can ever be anything of comparative discernment?  Or, perhaps its opposite is true — that in order to learn about “life”, one must compare and contrast it to its opposite, or near antonym, such as a medical condition that impacts and progressively deteriorates one’s life?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the question of whether there is an analogy relevant to “life” is an easy one.

There was once upon a time a life before the medical condition — then, the life after.  As the medical condition worsens, it becomes more and more difficult to remember the “time before”, and that is when one realizes that it is time to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, in order to regain one’s “life” and to put behind the constant and unendurable struggle against a Federal Agency or Postal Facility that cares not a twit about the quality of one’s life.

Life’s analogy is thus found in its opposite — of what it once was and still can be, by comparison.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire