Medical Retirement from Federal Government Employment: Terms

Language is a malleable vehicle.  There have been times in the history of language, when the staid and stodginess period of loss of vibrancy became the rule, followed by epochs of radical vicissitudes, upheavals and counter-conventional revolutions in the medium of language games.  Whether this encapsulated slice of linguistic alteration, upending traditional forms of communication because of electronic media and the hype of language abbreviated by Twitter, Texting and Tablet Titillations, will last the short life of technological innovation and obsolescence, is yet to be determined.

For example, the time of Shakespeare’s linguistic explosion of experimentation and expansive usage became in retrospect a richness of entering into connotative language meanings from which we benefit to this day.  But steadiness, continuity and conditions of stability are also important in order to take the proverbial breather to accept, embrace and assimilate (a term widely used for contextual purposes in modernity applied to immigration reform, as well) the linguistic revolutions that become incommensurate with meaning, communication and conveyance of terms.

Terms are important, both in common usage and in technical application.  In the arena of Federal Disability Retirement Law, different words are splayed about, sometimes without regard to proper application, especially when the “law” often requires a greater attention to precision of meaning.  Some simple and common crossovers of linguistic confusion involve:  “medical retirement” and “disability retirement” – do they mean the same thing?

If reference to either term involves the submission for an early retirement to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, then the answer is “yes”, they do mean the same thing.  Federal Disability  Retirement is identical to “Federal medical retirement” if by such words the query is referring to filing for an early retirement based upon the Federal or Postal worker’s inability to perform one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal position, and therefore the intention is to access an early annuity because of one’s early retirement based upon the medical condition, and submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

Some other terms often confused or conflated:  “On-the-job injury” or “pre-existing condition”; these terms are often used in the language-arena of Worker’s Compensation issues, and rarely have any import – or applicability, at all – in the context of a Federal Disability Retirement application.  For, in a Federal Disability Retirement application, whether the applicant is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, it matters not whether or not one has been disabled “on the job” or away at a skiing accident; instead, what is important is the impact of the injury or disease upon one’s ability and capacity to perform the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal position.  As for a “pre-existing” condition – that, too, is more likely appropriately defined in an OWCP context, and rarely in filing a Federal Disability Retirement application.

In any event, “terms” are meant to be used within a context-appropriate content of filings, and in preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, it is important to clarify and conform to the applicable statutory mandates in defining and using the terms which are most appropriate and effective.

For, in the end, the explosion of language during the era of Shakespeare and the Elizabethan Age reverberates with critical linguistic richness to this day; yet, if we were to have a conversation with a bloke from that era, the terms employed would not only confuse us, but confound us with a profound sense of despairing lack of cogency despite our self-aggrandizing declarations of superiority and advancement in the modern parlance of greater self-esteem.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement from Federal Employment: The Trader

We all think we are the “best” at it; and, indeed, that is one of the espoused qualifications boasted by one of the major party’s candidates:  a greater deal-maker, the penultimate trader.  Such a person claims to be able to spot the jewel in the hidden crown; the uncut diamond in the quicksand of life; and the unrevealed luminosity in a universe covered in the abyss of vacuity.

We all like to think of ourselves as that great horse-trader – the one who can spot a good deal when we see it, and walk away from a sour one left unidentified for another sucker to be conned.  The problem is that our egos tend to be greater than the wisdom of our own estimation.  There is a reason why, in the United States, “self-esteem” hits records of affirmation and acknowledgement; we keep telling ourselves how great we are, and all the while others prove worth by accomplishment and sheer toil.  That used to be our lot – of toil, despair and exhaustion from hard work; now, we believe in ourselves, and so it must be so.

There was a time when trading well meant surviving for another season; fur traders, commodity exchanging and transference of goods and services – these were the substances by which lives were lived.  The introduction of money as the prevailing source of exchange placed an interrupting force within the evaluative process of trading.  For, no longer was one thing transferred by direct possessory exchange for another, but the purchasing means became dependent upon a common currency for that exchange.

We lost the “eye” for direct exchange, and instead relied upon outside sources to determine the value of goods and services; and if one acquired a greater amount of currency, then the value itself of exchanging with that currency became diminished; and thus was born the evil of inflation.  There is no inflation in a primitive economy of direct exchange; for, what is immediately needed, desired and traded for, constitutes the direct value of the currency involved.

Then, of course, there are less “material” issues for the good trader.  There are “trade-offs” which must also warrant a “good eye”, in that a person must be able to evaluate, assess and analyze current circumstances, future needs and predictability of contingencies unexpected.

That is where the good trader in a Federal Disability Retirement case comes into play.  For, the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker who suffers 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 position, must be able to evaluate all of the vicissitudes of life’s misgivings, and make the “trade-off” between current work and career, future needs and potentialities, and engage the proper decision in moving forward (or not) in preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

For, being the natural trader all of us are, and believing that our self-esteem depends upon the efficacy of our trading instincts, may not be enough to survive in this life; it often takes an evaluative methodology of acknowledging the “trade-offs” one must accept or reject, in order to survive, and the first order of a trade never to make is the one that concerns one’s own health and well-being.  For, that is an invaluable commodity which has no equivalence of worth possessed by anyone else in order to constitute a fair exchange under any circumstances, and that is why preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application reflects the greatest trade of all.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Employee Disability Retirement: The din of silence

They are opposites, and yet they can confer meaning and communicate conceptual clarity by the very usage of simultaneous reflection in conjoined placement within a singular sentence of repose.  Can silence be of such tumultuous unnerving, and a confusion of loud noises be characterized within the context of its opposite, and still retain a clear sense of meaning?  Would it make the similar, mirror-image sense if we transposed and flipped those same words, and instead spoke about the “silence of din”?

That makes it sound like a movie title, or a short story encompassing a mysterious foreign land where Zen monks chant within the quiet gaze of an assassin’s eye.  But there are times when silence becomes so overwhelming in its quietude, that truths become revealed and concealed perspectives are suddenly manifested, and it is during those moments of enlightening revelations that realizations of necessity come to the fore (or, perhaps, it merely means that our stomachs are rumbling and we are merely hungry).

To paraphrase Bertrand Russell, the ever-mischievous agnostic, who once quipped that when a person thinks that questions of eternal salvation, the need for a higher being and questions of profundity encapsulating transcendent issues and metaphysical concerns begin to invade and come to the fore, it is probably nothing more than indigestion and a good pharmacological prescription pill should take care of it.  But it really does not work the other way, or make any sense, does it?

There is no “silence of din” – the latter is just that, a tumultuous cacophony of deafening onslaught, and that describes most of living in modernity, where the search for a slice of silence within that din is like a breath of eternal sighs in exasperated tones of forgiving acrimony.

But there is a “din of silence” – that moment when we can stand in the unprovoked thoughts of our own reflections, when we can remove ourselves for a slice of contractions where pain cannot reach and confusion will not confound, and it is in the monastic paradigm of clashes where worth and value coalesce, when thought and action extend, and how the true essence of a person becomes revealed in a moment of naked reality.  But then, the real world comes crashing back, and we awaken from the slumber of transcendence.

There is, often in the momentary timelessness between reality and slumber, a realization of that which needs to be accomplished in order to move forward.  That is the point when the Federal or Postal employee, who experiences the pain of a medical condition, must decide as to whether to continue in the same modality as the “rest of the world” in trying to just survive, or to “move on” to another stage of life.

It sometimes takes the din of silence to figure that out; but for the Federal or Postal employee who suffers 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 the Federal or Postal position, it is never advisable to wait for the din of silence before deciding to file a Federal Disability Retirement application with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset; for, in the end, you may end up in the silence of din before achieving the peaceful repose of the din of silence.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement from Federal Employment: And then we die

(It is the parenthetical previous statement that ultimately matters, left blank to be completed, and never to be presumed).  Actions of finality, or seemingly so, tend to create an aura of despair and angst.  Once, in a world where purpose was never questioned, and the teleological end of man never brought forth the hint of doubt, the cohesiveness of society’s resolve was never a pause.  It is the modernity of hesitation, trepidation and loss of judgment that brings us to the pit of incessant questioning, as opposed to “doing”.  This is a maddening world, where the rise of Existentialism and post-modern impotence leaves us to seek therapy at every turn.

What we do in our lives before that terminal event; what dreams we once possessed before the souring of cynicism overwhelmed us; and of those lazy summer nights when the dancing illumination of fireflies dotted the canvas of a blackened void, when thoughts would drift beyond the mere mediocrities of present lives, current circumstances and seemingly unassailable realities which constrained, restricted and limited the dreams shattered by the reality of our travails; it was then that a glimmer of hope, an expectation of possibility, and a hint of potentiality yet unrealized, would creep into the essence of our souls.

Fairytales matter, because youth cannot survive another day without some fantasy of hope; and doors left unopened and locked with the resolve of “forever” will only diminish and destroy, where the need for tomorrow yet shouts in a rashness of desire.  To shut the pathway to dreams or to construct obstacles for the mere sake of obstruction is to strangle that parenthetical gleam of light yet unextinguished and to betray the angels who look down upon us with the remnants of wings to be unfurled, in hopes of fluttering to pass by with a smile.

Perhaps, one day, there will still be such follies to believe in.  For now, there is only the toil of daily grind, and thus are we left with the question implicit in the statement:  And then we die.

In Muriel Barbery’s work, The Elegance of the Hedgehog, a youthful life of advantage but of seeming meaninglessness is traded with an older woman’s upward trajectory once lost in the anonymity of class distinctions, and the theme throughout encompasses the essence of a life’s worth.  We all want to embrace meaning and value in the life which has been given; have we fulfilled our potential?  Did the dreams we once possessed, handed to us like jewels on a plate of limitless infinity, become realized, or was it a wasted phantasm like a handful of sand squeezed and escaping through the crevices of our closed fists?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are considering filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, the questions garnered by thoughts of future insecurity are natural and plentiful.  It is, in many ways, similar to the refrain repeated herein:  And then we die.

Once a Federal Disability Retirement application is approved, and the Federal or Postal employee is separated from the Federal agency or the U.S. Postal Service, one wonders:  Was my work of any lasting value?  Did I leave an imprint upon the shifting sands of a prior existence?  Did I make a difference?

But those questions should be cast aside and left behind, and instead, it is still the future of one’s unfinished work that should always be focused upon, and preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is to continue the narrative in working upon that familiar refrain, that the future still promises a fulfillment of unfinished potentiality, and the unmarked grave need not be one which is unvisited even in the twilight of our lives.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Employee Disability Retirement: Giving lip service

What does it mean to merely give “lip service”?  Ultimately, it is the hypocrisy of committing to words the sincerity of inaction.  In other words, it is merely the utterance of words, with nothing to follow.  This is a society that speaks much, and does little.  We give lip service to the braggadocio of being a productive society, yet, concurrently admit to the massive loss of the manufacturing sector of our country.

Can a country whose primary essence is built upon a “service industry”, actually declare itself to be “productive”?  Can we truly instill fear and dread upon our enemies while simultaneously confessing that no ground troops will be deployed?  Can unmanned drones win wars?  Can we actually claim to have hundreds of “friends” if we have never met them, never been irritated by the subtleties of undesirable traits and personalities, yet have spats by mere tapping of the fingertips on a keyboard?

It is little wonder that we are a society of mere utterances, less action, and where words pile upon more words to voluminously detail the insincerity of the greater cumulative mountain of meaningless words.  Lip service is to promise the world and leave the scraps of society with mere leftovers.

Admiral Yamamoto was only half-right when he feared that, by successfully launching the sneak-attack upon Pearl Harbor which brought the United States into the Second World War, he had inadvertently awoken a sleeping giant; for, generations later, who remembers the words of the victors in the history of fallen empires, but the faint snoring of the giant gone back to sleep?

It is lip service we give, today, and the same we receive in return.  In a universe where language is both the essence of life, as well as the primary barrier to living it, the duality of clashing worlds where virtual reality dominates the phenomenology of currency, it is little wonder that we can, as a species, survive even a day.

What other animal turns to the technology of texting in the midst of an endangered life?  Of embracing an impotent shield of linguistic panorama when threat to safety prevails and calls upon the urgency of action?  Do other predators – and we are one, despite our denials by protecting endangered species who mirror our own violent history – scream when attacked, or do they growl with aggressive energy to compel our enemies to take heed?

Beware of the lip service, especially by those who would do us harm.

For Federal and Postal employees who begin the process of preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, whether under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the inclination is to be “fair” and to inform one’s Federal Agency or the U.S. Postal Service of one’s “intentions” concerning the process; but such information prematurely disseminated may come back to haunt, and one must always be wary and cautious of inane platitudes from coworkers, supervisors and managers who are empowered to harm.

For, the passing comment made, and returned with the innocuousness rising to the level of inaction in the lip service of those who pretend to be friendly, may come back to haunt with an administrative sanction which does some actual harm in this world of virtual reality in a language-filled emptiness.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal & Postal Disability Retirement: Indicia by quantitative output

Should worth be determined by quota of quantitative output, or is the slow and steady progress of quality and craftsmanship still valued in this world of imported trinkets and trash bins of brevity?  There are reports of a major bankruptcy filing resulting in the inevitable liquidation of a foreign shipping company, and the rumors preceding have already forced stockpiling of goods for the upcoming holiday shopping expectations.

The interconnecting tentacles of international trade foregoes any differentiation these days, between “domestic” or “foreign” companies, and the deep reverberations and repercussions of shortages felt reveals and unravels of a society addicted to the notion of accumulation, no matter what or where the source.  We can no longer travel to destinations of quiet reserve, because everyone does so – with Smartphones and photographs instantly posted, and of the meditative monastery no longer devout with quietude of prayer, but filled with flashbulbs of visceral interruptions.  And of the unique product made with time and care?  Of hand-held tools and the carpenter’s reflective repose?

Quotas define modernity; it is the quantitative output that prevails in a factory-like universe where the individual stitching has no mark of uniqueness or character of identification.  Perhaps Marx had at least the principle of labor’s loss of meaning right; when the product loses the manifold entailment of the soul which guides the hands, then the character of creation is destroyed and the essence of the mold becomes subsumed beneath the greed of desire.

It is the celebrity-status and stature of glimmer and glamour which poses to characterize the indicia of success; and the goal of that flashpoint of destination’s pinnacle of “arriving” is determined by the indicia of quantitative output.  How else to explain the constant boast that Americans work longer hours, have less vacations, spend fewer time with family and friends – but to show the rest of the world who sit idly by with envy and despair, that the price to pay in order to attain the grand scheme of such blissful existence is to undermine the family structure, to desecrate the common hold of a community, and to destroy the very fabric of society’s worth?  We pay a price, all right, and that cost transacted is the self-destruction of the essence of humanity.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition no longer allows the Federal or Postal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal employee’s positional duties, the pressure to keep up with the quantitative output comes to a flashpoint where health intersects with productivity, and the Federal agency or the U.S. Postal Service takes such data into account in deciding the worth of your life.

The indicia of quantitative output are the means by which the determining end is calculated.  At that critical juncture, the Federal or Postal employee must make a Solomon’s decision:  Health, or the job.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who have come to that point of decision-making, preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be ultimately submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, becomes not just a necessity, but a call to action.  For, in the end, the indicia of quantitative output is someone else’s measure of worth – and that “someone else” is certainly not taking into account the value of one’s health in a society self-destructive in its juggernaut of purposeless regression.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire