OPM Disability Retirement: The buttons we believe accomplish

We believe, on faith alone, that pushing a button does the deed; and then we go on with life, and nothing really has changed but the belief in our own self-satisfaction.  It is that virtual world of computers, light switches, garage door openers and even the disc-like appendages to our shirts and sweaters that lead us to conclude that all such contraptions are of equal weight and value.

We see the cause-and-effect of the garage-door opener — of pushing a button and seeing the door slide open, then another push and it reverses course.  We push buttons on the computer keyboard, and with each tap the screen changes, or concludes with the deed completed; and of “buttons” on a shirt or sweater, we appreciate the invention that holds two sides of a separated apparel together to enclose our bodies with a warmth of a material embrace.

What does it mean to accomplish a deed with a mere pushing of a button?

We have been habituated into such thinking, and it is this disconnectedness that allows for society to continue to move “as if”.  It is only when we encounter the counter – belief that all of a sudden the world of buttons begins to sow some seeds of doubt — as when the boss comes and says, “Why haven’t you sent me X” and you respond, “I emailed it to you last week “ (it isn’t quite the same to say, “I pushed the button that accomplished the deed”).  “But I never got it” is the response which prompts you to go back and re-press the button, hoping somehow that doing so a second time will make a difference that the first time did not.

This time, however, just to be doubly sure, you go back and ask your boss whether he received it (not, again, “did my second button-pushing work?”), thus verifying the causal connection that had failed to occur previously.

What made the difference?

Somehow, in the ethereal universe of circuitry and magic we have no clues about, there exists a causal chain that “works” and “accomplishes” deeds — just like the garage-door opener that issues an immediate gratification of causation.  But that all of life would allow for such instantaneous confirmation — and of buttons we think accomplish.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition necessitates a consideration to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the buttons we need to push are many, varied, and long in waiting.

Whether they comprise of the metaphorical “buttons” to get people moving, or of emails that need to be sent, confirmations that require a response — what we do know, throughout, is that the reality of one’s medical condition has a discernible difference both of reality and of urgency when it comes upon the need for causation to occur.

The buttons we think accomplish remain somehow in that “other world” of magic and the unknown; the medical condition that remains is somehow the reality of the “now” that constitutes pain and suffering; and that is why preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, is of greater importance than the buttons we believe accomplish.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Legal Representation on Federal Disability Claims: What we value

We give lip-service about the things we claim to value.  One’s intentions often satisfy the guilt we secretly harbor, whether suppressed consciences touch upon the better half of our souls, or not.  We “say” we wish to spend more time with family members, our kids, our spouses and other kindred spirits, but then when the opportunity opens up for us to do so, we wallow in the self-pity of the internal universe we create.

Have circumstances forced upon us those intentions we have often voiced but never fulfilled?  If a medical condition forces one to remain at home, why are we not happy that we can spend more time with those whom we have previously cast aside with the words spoken but never followed through upon?

If what we value is based solely upon the words spoken, we would indeed be seen as a compendium of value-filled coupons collected over many years of savings; but as time in a bottle is merely an empty space of air filling a bubble of eternity, so words thrown about carelessly to listening ears may be too young to realize and otherwise cling to voices that reassure but never fulfill, like the wolf in sheep’s clothing that devours all who are so gullible as to disregard the elongated nose that defies belief.

In the end, what we value is proven by the actions we initiate, fulfill, embrace and confirm; and for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to prevent one from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal position, it is the deterioration of one’s health that becomes the very test of that which we value.

Is one’s health important?  Does one’s career override all else?  What is the meaning of “sacrifice”, and how far must one go in proving one’s loyalty and commitment?

Filing a Federal Disability Retirement application through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is not a judgment upon what we value; it is, instead, a reflection of how we value workers who have shown a commitment in the Federal sector and the Postal Service, by recognizing that once the eligibility criteria of 18 months of Federal Service has been completed, the family of Federal and Postal workers have a vested interest in protecting the rights of a worker who has suffered from a medical condition and deserves greater consideration than to cast them aside with nothing but the shirt on their backs, or the empty words often bandied about without meaning or value.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Lawyer Representation OPM Disability Retirement: Of who we are

Once, it was not a valid question; or, at least not one in which most people were concerned about, unless you were born “out of wedlock” or an orphan shuttered in some institutional hideaway relegated to be humble and taught to forever be thankful for even being alive.  Upon a time now gone, the name by which we were called, the reference to the parental lineage — “Oh, that’s Tom’s youngest” or “She’s Minerva’s middle-‘un” — was enough of an identifier, and we were satisfied with the parochial ways in which we saw ourselves.

Perhaps there were those unique circumstances — of a hushed past where secrets of a shamed love affair produced that “unwanted child” who was brought up by an eccentric aunt who neither cared about public opinion nor made judgments about the grown-up acts and misdeeds now forgotten long ago; but of the rest and the mediocre lot of us, we were just content to remain in quiet anonymity and not invite the ire of societal condemnations.

Now, of course, we do a swab-test, purchase a “kit” and decipher the mysterious genealogy of that twisted image we grasped on to from our school days when science was a muddle and instruction was something to survive — of that “DNA” conundrum that has pervaded the lexicon of our daily lives.  And yet, we still rely upon human frailty — we trust in whatever test results are determined.

If it shows that we are more Irish than of Slavic descent, we abandon our belief in the latter and rush to the nearest pub to declare our ancestry; and if the little molecules within the cellular structure of our essence says that we are distantly related to Abraham Lincoln, why, we puff out our chests and say, “Imagine that!”

All the while, we pay homage without questioning the accuracy of some lab in some corner of the world that says that physical evidence is irrefutable; that statistical analysis cannot be doubted; and that the Age of Science cannot deter the memories handed down from forefathers who created myths and folklores that allowed for the imagination to soar.  Of who we are has become a clinical analysis enslaved by what we are told.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition is beginning to impact, prevent or otherwise impede performing the essential elements of one’s Federal position or Postal Craft, Supervisory role or administrative, physical or cognitive-intensive labor, the concept of who we are is often intimately bundled deep within the psychological recesses of what we do.  But that is a false paradigm.

If you are willing to sacrifice your health upon the altar of what you do, it reflects poorly upon who you are.

In the end, the benefit of a Federal Disability Retirement is not determined by the amount of annuity to be received, but by the priorities placed — your health, which indicates the essence of who you are, as opposed to a DNA analysis of what your cellular structure reveals, and least of all by what you do.  Of who we are is determined more by the wise decisions we make than in the work of the world as determined by others.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal & Postal Disability Retirement from OPM: Feelings

There are appropriate contexts within which to consider them, as well as places, insertions, events and conversational modalities where it is partly or entirely irrelevant; but as with most things in life, the boundaries that bifurcate are not always clear and distinct.  When one is considering purely subjective circumstances, it is clearly the “appropriate” moment — of personal relationships; of a vacation to be taken; of emotions being considered.

In a court of law, it is probably not the best approach to take with a judge; although, in the sentencing phase or the “damages” argument to be made to a jury, it may be the singular force of persuasive impact that makes not only the distinction unclear, but the decision quite the decisive edge.

“Feelings” are to be reserved for puppies, late nights in bed with a fever, and how the toes tickle when lying on a grassy knoll in the middle of summer when the lone ant walks along the pathway of your bare skin.

Do we dare admit to them?  When you are in a heated argument, is it not an oxymoron to shout, “Feelings don’t have anything to do with it!”  For, what is the criteria to be applied when making a decision based upon them?  Does the spectrum of emotions never cloud one’s judgment?  Or can we, as we often claim, set them aside so easily, like so many automatons in those doomsday movies that have become popularized, where androids and mechanized juggernauts that have taken over the earth and tried to suppress humanity are now the very beings whom we always wanted to emulate?

And what of the French Existentialists and the horror of reaction to that old favorite, “Invasion of the body snatchers” — what was it that made it so fascinating, where beings were stripped of their souls and emotions were all of a sudden undone, extinguished and no longer relevant, where bodies devoid of feelings walked about the earth like so many empty tombs?

Feelings are funny animals; they make up so much of who we are, and yet we spend a lifetime trying to avoid the very essence of that which makes up who we are.

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 the Federal or Postal job, the anomaly concerning “feelings” becomes quickly apparent: for, confronted with having to prepare an effective Federal Disability Retirement application before an administrative body — the U.S. Office of Personnel Management — you are asked to remain “clinical” and antiseptic in the face of “proving” the medical evidence by the cold calculus of “the law”, and yet at the same time you are trying to convey your “feelings” with respect to the impact of the pain, the anguish of anxiety or the daily levels of profound fatigue felt.

It is a tightrope, balancing act that must be done with expertise, subtle techniques and an interspersing of line-crossing deftly engaged. Completing the SF 3112A, Applicant’s Statement of Disability, is the single most important form in preparing a Federal Disability Retirement application, aside from gathering the proper medical documentation and making the persuasive legal argumentation.

For, in the end, that lifetime of trying to suppress those “feelings” must be utilized carefully, yet at the same time you have to be persuasive enough to touch upon the emotional makeup of a fellow human being who, also, likely has had to suppress those same feelings in order to apply “the law”.  Go figure.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Attorney for Federal Disability Retirement claims: Impediments

There is always something in the way, isn’t there?  That’s one of life’s paramount rules, a presumptive nuisance, an annoyance that hinders and obstructs.  It is one of those “laws” that we all laugh about, whether Murphy’s or some uncle who visits and has the talent to always put a damper on things; or maybe it is just a trite truism of life that cannot ever be avoided.

You can come up with the greatest idea in the universe, and best of dreams that are about to come true — and then the “it” comes upon the scene.  Impediments represent the spoiler that dampens the soul, treads upon the glory of an anticipated morning’s future, and follows us with the proverbial dark clouds or like pig-pen’s constant swirl of dirt and grime.

You excitedly share your dreams and hopes, speaking quickly and with urgency of youth, enthusiasm or an admixture of both; and you get the tepid response of, “Aw, it’ll never work.”  Or, you believe you have uncovered the key to life’s success, come running home — to parents who have endured a lifetime of disappointments or to a spouse who has just been taking care of 3 boisterous children — open the door with a stupid smile, start to relate your great insight, and you are told: “Great. Now, will you please take out the garbage?”

Impediments are the lifeline to reality’s check upon our own foolhardiness; or, for the eternal optimist, they reflect the greater challenge that tests our skills in gauging our sincerity, endurance, integrity and reliability.

Medical conditions constitute such an impediment.  We take such things as health and the daily ability to get up in the morning, take a shower and go to work — those ordinary things in life that we all presume everyone the world over does in a similar fashion — for granted.  But then that horrid and feared “medical condition” creeps up on us, and suddenly we cannot do those things we once never even thought about, and it is that impediment that begins to gnaw away at one’s soul.

For the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker who has experienced not only the impediment of the medical condition itself, but the greater hindrance from the manner in which the Federal agency or the U.S. Postal Service has begun in their campaign of harassment and intimidation, preparing 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, is often the best pathway around the impediment.

No, it may not be a brilliant idea, and nor even a greater insight than what the ordinary ho-hum person may come up with when confronted with the same or similar situation.  But maybe it was never meant to be — and that those brilliant ideas can come about after the approval received from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, when the Federal or Postal employee has less worries about one’s future, and then you can expend your energies coming up with ideas to save the planet, become the next Einstein, or just plainly have the time to take out the garbage.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement Representation: Ikebana and life

Flower arrangement is an ancient art form that reflects the conduit of living.  If you look up the etymology in wikipedia, the term is derived from 2 simple concepts in Japanese: “Ikeru” (meaning, “to live” or “living”) and “hana” (as “flower”).  Thus, the two concepts combined form the compound meaning that embraces multiple connotations — of paralleling one’s manner of living by the arrangement of flowers that fill the home; of the appreciation of such arrangement in reflecting the order or disorder in one’s own life; and of allowing the fragrance of life to permeate throughout one’s personal circumstances, etc.

The type of arrangement one engages; the sparseness or fullness that one orders; the manner in which color and form are aggregated, placed, trimmed and gathered — these can all mirror and duplicate the parallel universe of one’s own life.  An Ikebana arrangement can reveal much, both about a person and the inner soul, the life’s worth, the worthiness of deeds accomplished, and the lifetime of the values imparted.

Medical conditions can do the same — they tell not only about a person’s will to live and the endurance of pain and suffering within this world, but also about everyone else and how a society treats its workers.

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 the Federal or Postal job, the long and arduous journey through one’s medical condition must be met with the complex administrative process of filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application.

Through such a bureaucratic process, one will encounter the same things that are reflected in Ikebana and life: of a life that must be rearranged; of colors, shadows and hues that must be mixed and matched; and of the ordering of priorities encountered, the changes of that which thrives or wilts; all of these, like Ikebana and life itself, must be considered when preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Early Retirement for Federal Workers with Disabilities: Progress

Whether as a noun or a verb, the definition remains a mirror-image of one another.  Moreover, it is the implication that always makes one pause — of a juggernaut forward, always advancing, and where societal norms and interpretations forever seem to cast a judgment upon the lack thereof.

In other societies, the status quo or clinging on to traditions, what has “always been”, or even just to maintain a semblance of what was done yesterday, is enough and sufficient for contentment and happiness.  Here, in modernity, “progress” is always about the new, the innovative, and yesterday’s accolades are merely today’s lesser applause.

Progress as a noun indicates a noticeable jump in comparison to today, and a quantum leap by standards of yesterday; and as a verb, it is the action of always advancing, like an army that never sleeps and a navy whose ships never cease amidst the waves of twilight engines churning ever forward.  Are we never allowed to rest for a moment?  Do vacations count, or naps to refresh and recollect our thoughts?

Modern life is always seemingly one of movement with never an allowance for reflection as to whether the direction we are moving towards is the right one, leaving aside whether we even desire to be drawn within the compass of spectrums undecided.

And what about a chronic medical condition — when it develops, arises and begins to impede, do we look upon it merely as a nuisance as opposed to a priority, and is it because it blocks this pathway of the mythology that “progress” must always be maintained?  Do others see it as an impediment, as well, where “slowing down” the team means that you must be sacrificed and cast aside, left behind like so much human detritus no longer of value or worth?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the disabling medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job and position, it is often this ingrained sense of “progress” (or lack thereof) that begins to insidiously overwhelm.  For, we in the West have a warped sense of time, value, priorities and perspectives when it comes to what constitutes and reflects progress.

Preparing a Federal Disability Retirement can be viewed as a form of “progress”, if only because it allows for a different turn, another option and a perspective taken in another form of what it means to “progress” (emphasis on the last syllable).

Sometimes in life, one’s priorities have to be evaluated and reconstituted; just “moving forward” is not necessarily progress for everyone at all times, and preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application when everyone else seems to be leaving you behind may merely indicate progress away from the pack of lies that you have been fed throughout your life, that mere movement means that you are going anywhere, and the needle of the compass tells of which direction.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement for Federal Government Employees: The shelf

The various components of our lives reveal the type of species we are, and the reflected anthropomorphism that parallels cannot be avoided.  Is the clutter in our life an expression of functionality or of an ostentatious display to stand out and apart?

The car we choose to drive; the clothes we wear; the expressions we adopt, undertake and use with aplomb like so many water balloons thrown from around the corner in anonymous chuckles once the projected implements explode upon the shameless lives of unexpected strangers.

What do we place upon the shelves that line the walls of our own personalities?  The shelf is a strange contraption of human invention; what other animal or species of alien origins has invented such a thing?

It serves a purpose both of functionality, practicality in storing effects, and at the same time, satisfying a human need to display and present to any who visit and succumb to the curiosity of watchful eyes. Or, is it to store and forget?  Where the shelf is placed is telling; is it in the basement where relics are stored, or out in the living room against the wall, or the foyer, the recreational room?

What do we place on the shelf — photographs, and if the photograph lies face down, does it mean that those who posed for it are now in disfavor and no longer merit the studious appreciation of all who visit?

Is the shelf lined with books, and are they in alphabetical order, or in some semblance of genre-driven or other means of clean and logical categorization?  Are they first editions, signed, hardback or paperback, or just a bunch of books bought at a used book store to impress any who might peruse the shelves of you?

And what of our “mental shelves” — what do we line upon them, what storehouses and warehouse are collected in dusty bins and small knickknacks that clutter the inner thoughts of our lives?  Have we placed certain memories upon “the shelf” and forgotten about them?  Or do we reach for them when we are lonely, abandoned and left to our own devices?  Have we come to a point where we consider our own lives to be “shelved”?  Or, do we submit quietly as others have determined to “shelve” our own careers as we sit quietly upon the shelf of living and wait for the dust to collect?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition where one’s career has been placed on a metaphorical shelf — one where you are now relegated as a nonentity and barely recognized, much less acknowledged to even exist — it may be time to prepare, formulate and file an effective 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.

Agencies and the Postal Service tend to do that to their fellow human beings — of treating them as mere displays upon the shelf otherwise placed in a corner or down within the basement, and often, it is the medical condition and the loss of productivity or efficiency that determines the order of where you are placed on the shelf.

Preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application can take your off of that shelved status, and return you back to the world of the living, where dust and detritus may not be the order for the day; at least, not yet.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: Identifying the time for change

At what point does a person finally realize that it is time for a change?  That things cannot go on “as is” much longer, and certain modifications, “accommodations” (there’s that fearful word, again) and alterations must occur, or else you feel that your head will explode or something dire will suddenly befall.  Inside, daily, your thoughts turn to the knowledge that “this cannot go on forever”, and that something must occur.  But what?

Then, the voice of hope keeps whispering that, well, perhaps circumstances will change, alterations to the objective universe may come about in the morning thereafter, and the world will somehow shift and things will get better.

We have been fed upon from infancy until the cold winds of adulthood that folklore and fairytales occur, but the reality is that unless we initiate the pathways of change, they rarely occur except in fables of miracles and mythologies told in dusty old books.

First, it should be clear that the need for change has already been identified when one recognizes that it is time for change.  That identification, however, is often not enough.  For, it is the further sub-identification in recognizing what it is that needs change, and more importantly, why?

If the reasons underlying the need are within the purview of one’s control and destiny of choices being made, then the second step in the process can be initiated by the need identified.  That is the critical juncture in the decision-making process: Of identification, the reason, the underlying need, and then the steps taken to initiate the change in order to satisfy the need identified.

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 need for change often comes about incrementally, insidiously and without great fanfare.

The “need for change” can often come at a critical juncture where frustration of a sense of impending doom collide, and necessity arises because no other alternative pathways appear to exist.  Moreover, it is the identification of the time for change that is often overlooked — that point in life where one is scrambling about desperately not quite knowing the “why” of the need, but only that it must come about.

Speaking to an experienced attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement law may be the first step in sorting it all out.  For the Federal or Postal employee who must by necessity consider filing a Federal Disability Retirement application , the need for change is likely now; identifying the time for change may only require the time it takes to have an initial consultation with a lawyer who has guided many Federal and Postal employees through this process before.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Retirement for Mental or Physical Incapacity: Of mice and things

In the early morning hours or in the late twilight of night when everyone else is fast asleep, of mice and things scurrying about tells of a world beyond the days where we awaken and watch.  We all have a tendency to anthropomorphize upon a world we otherwise would fail to understand, and projecting our own characteristics upon another species has always been what we cannot resist.

Of mice — do they run about when everyone else is away because of fear, or because they, too, love the quietude of a period when all except the insomniacs and burglars tiptoe in shadows of darkness where the innocent dare not trample upon?

Sometimes, in the rush from hiding place to food source, the mouse will pause, lift up on its hind legs, look about, nibble a bit, then off again; and when they become bold enough to actually stare and look directly at the master of the house, you know that it is time to bring out the cheese and the traps, for they have exceeded their welcome and are likely becoming too comfortable in a home that they are unwelcome.

And what of the “things”?  Well, there are mice, and then of course, centipedes and spiders, and cousins of mice, and other things.  They are the ones who go “bump” in the night.  Are we like them?  If a greater master were to look upon us like we do of mice and things, would that Grand Wizard think similar thoughts?  That if we scurry about in fear and try and remain anonymous and unobtrusive, we would be left alone; but if we became bold in our unwelcomed status, a trap would be set for us and we would be cast aside into the oblivion outside of the walls of our own making?

Isn’t that how the injured Federal or Postal worker feels when a medical condition continues to prevent the Federal or Postal worker from performing all of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal worker’s position?  Such a Federal or Postal worker begins to feel like the mouse that scurries about trying to survive, but once he or she gets noticed, the Federal Agency or the Postal Service begins to set traps, to put the pressure on and proceed to ostracize and get rid of the pesky things.

Fortunately, Federal and Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition have somewhat more protections than those accorded to creatures small and large, of mice and things.

Preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is one such “protection” that allows the Federal or Postal employee to move beyond the workplace harassment and attempts to remove and terminate, thereby ending a career where one has invested one’s life to prolong.

What the Federal or Postal employee does not want to do, is to end up like those creatures that go bump-in-the-night — of mice and things — by failing for access all available benefits, and especially a Federal Disability Retirement annuity that can secure one’s future and allow for one to focus upon the important things in life, like one’s health.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire