Federal Employee Disability Retirement: Overload

The comparative life is an illusion of sorts; Plato’s theme throughout is established every day, as appearances hide the reality beneath, and the allegory of the Cave – where shadows constitute the seeming truth and the truth appears as hidden seeming – is merely an archaic anachronism that has been vanquished, if merely because no one gives much weight to dead philosophers and nobody has the time for reflection upon questions that cannot provide answers instantaneously, as Google and High Speed Internet have allowed us to become accustomed.

Looking about on any street corner, or walking among the populace at large, one would believe that everyone around is able to handle the daily stresses of modernity, and that overload – whether of information, activities, responsibilities, financial, ethical, family, commitments, work issues, health concerns, etc. – are all performed, accomplished, completed and fulfilled with but a yawn.  Somehow, we all know it not to be the case.

Statistically, a great number of us suffer from anxiety, depression, intolerance to any level of stresses, with physical manifestations and somatic consequences impacting; and how many among the seemingly “normal” crowd require daily intakes of pharmacological assistance by ingestion with serious side effects to boot, but like the three towers which – when viewed from a certain perspective of alignment, appears as a singular entity – presents one sense-impression and then another when movement of the perceiver alters the vantage point, we persist upon a given viewpoint despite knowledge to the contrary.

Sensory overload is a daily problem, a persistent concern and a philosophical conundrum, precisely because we have given up the opportunity for reflection, repose and reconciliation with life’s major questions.  No, philosophy was never meant for the masses – the Socratic dialectic made that clear; but the questions posed were meant to always and perennially be asked, such that each generation would attempt to make heads or tails of life’s serious concerns.

Instead, we have been told that there are no such questions to be answered; that mythology died at about the same time Socrates took his mandated hemlock, and all information is good, available and open to the public through Google, and we can all be happy with the lot of life given to us.  Yet, the overload we experience on a daily basis, somehow doesn’t quite fit that paradigm.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who feel the burden of overload – of having to “deal” with workplace harassment; of contending with the debilitating medical conditions; of deteriorating health and the impact upon one’s ability and capacity to continue in the chosen job in the Federal or Postal sector – it may be time to consider filing 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, if the Federal or Postal employee is no longer able to perform one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, you may be eligible for Federal Disability Retirement benefits.

It is a long and arduous bureaucratic process that can take many stages in order to obtain, but the alternative may be of that appearance which defies the evidence of reality – like the Platonic Forms that represent the hidden truth behind the appearance of things presented – for, to remain without doing anything is to either continue to deteriorate in progressive debilitation of health, or to try and withstand the overload of life’s misgivings in a job which you can no longer do, or barely do, until the day comes when increasing pressure from the Federal agency or the Postal Service ends in a termination letter; and, that, too would be an overload beyond the ability to handle.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement for Federal Employees: The clinical language

The antiseptic nature of language allows for the euphemism of linguistic cloaking to occur.  The corollary effect, however, is that it fails to provide a nexus to the humanity lost, and allows for an arrogance of language by imparting its distance and separation from warmth.

Clinical language has that characteristic, steeped in the mysterious and archaic history of Gregorian chants at altars once embodying the Eucharist’s theological secrets of transubstantiation with the priesthood undulating in phrases foreign to ears of modernity; and from that same pocket of incomprehensible linguistic sophistication that only New Englanders like Buckley and other intellectuals would bandy about with phrases we all nod at as if we understood them, comes the cold, clinical language that doctors, nurses and psychiatrists use in diagnosing conditions beyond the mere commoner’s ability to realize.

The clinical language bifurcates and objectifies; it is a way of keeping the discussion on a level of discourse where human emotions need not enter, will not intercede, and cannot invade through the impenetrable walls of the rational side of the brain.  Perhaps there is a need for that; a want, a desire and a worthiness to maintain that distance, so that the topics delineated, explained and obfuscated can be accomplished without the emotional turmoil of those consequences resulting from the realization that one is damaged goods beyond repair.

In the end, however, when the patient goes back home, discusses it with family, friends and close relations, the interpretive process must by necessity be utilized.

In former times, dictionaries were taken out, root words were defined and the Latin phrases whispered in secret murmurings of incantations incomprehensible were untangled, discerned and disassembled.  In modernity, we Google them and have the algorithm of computer intelligence in sunny California interpret the words for us to digest.  Then, the translation into the emotive language of kitchen-held talks in hushed tones where children strain to listen from stairwells around the corner; and tears wept, confidences given and lost, and the upheavals of families in crisis where the clinical language has been demythologized and demystified so that even the everyday person can recognize the human toil of a ravaged body and mind.

For the Federal employee and U.S. Postal worker who suffers from a medical condition, whether that medical condition has been diagnosed in clothing termed by the clinical language used by the medical profession, or already interpreted in common everyday usage, the plan is to prepare an effective, understandable, cogent and coherent Federal Disability Retirement application, and one that can bridge that gap from phrases barely comprehensible to linguistic descriptions that present a viable case.

Doctor’s reports and office notes, clinical narratives and treatment records are all useful and necessary, but in order to create that legal nexus of presenting a persuasive argument and meeting the standard of proof of preponderance of the evidence in a Federal Disability Retirement application, it is always a good idea to interpret and translate that clinical language into a delineation that touches upon the everyday emotions common to us all, by breaking down the bifurcated walls and allowing for the warmth of humanity to pervade the narrative of life.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: Silent lives defying interpretation

Life is a mystery, and individual lives a puzzle untold.  It is the calluses that we develop throughout our lives that diminish our individual and collective curiosity to get to know the “other”.

We are born with a teleological intellect striving to unravel and unmask the depths of human essence; but modernity, technology and the singular focus of tangents often involving prurient asides distract and envelop with unwavering obsessions, but it has gotten worse:  no, not in any violent manner or upheaval of historical significance; rather, the electronic means of texting, emailing, Facebook-ing and other such means – which, if one pauses for just a moment to reflect, is merely a white page on a screen of illuminating blindness where symbols representing communicative ignorance are exchanged through the ethereal conduit of airwaves – give an artificial semblance of comfort that we are still engaging in the essential project of destined human activity:  getting to know one another.

When, in fact, the distance between words and the human touch; the distinction between the beep apprising one of receiving a message and the subtleties of an eyebrow raised, a grimace faintly made or a sparkle from eyes admiring; or the differentiation between black lettering upon a lighted page as opposed to the intonation and undulating mellifluousness of the softly spoken word – these, we are losing as each day passes, unnoticed, unconcernedly, and without any real hope of recovery.

It is, in the end, those silent lives defying interpretation which are lost forever on the doorsteps of unwritten historical accounts, despite the stories never told, the narratives forever undeclared and the characters uncharted because of the mystery of life and the conundrum of human lives.

History, it has been said, is written by “winners”; and if there is indeed truth in such a statement, then its corollary opposite must be similarly true:  unwritten and unknown accounts are forgotten or never written of those “losers”.  But that is only half of the truth; for, there are those countless bystanders who are never acknowledge, but fail to be inserted and included in the narrative of unmarked graves unacknowledged through the accounts of history untold.

We all want to be “significant”; we all want to “make a difference”; and for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition cuts short a promising career, a relevant contribution to the “mission” of the Federal Agency, or make a difference to an old woman living alone who waves hello to the Letter Carrier as the high-point of her day – filing a Federal Disability Retirement application, whether the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, may seem like the end of that teleological journey that we are all engaged in.

But always remember that there is life after the Federal workplace, and whether you are an active Federal or Postal employee, or getting ready to take that step to initiate a Federal Disability Retirement application, there are still silent lives defying interpretation, and yours is one of them.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal & Postal Disability Retirement: Substantive vacuity

Another oxymoron, of sorts.  There are many of them in life, and the longer we live, the greater recognition we purport to identify.  People often say things and don’t mean it; or, such declarative niceties are meaninglessly bandied about because there is never any intention of follow-up or fulfilling of statements made.  We all know of people like that – commitments made with words, but no actions to follow; promises allegedly posited, with failed remembrances later on; or, misunderstandings on your part, and never theirs.

When did words become so meaningless?  Was it when the national debt soared beyond the proportional number of lawyers graduated from unknown law schools and the pendulum began to swing towards that abyss of linguistic elasticity upon the President’s quibbling with the meaning of a verb in a scandal and cover-up leading to impeachment?

Or, did the pinnacle of time when substance was king become a bottomless pit of mindless vacuity when Smartphones were introduced into the fray of conversation-stoppers, where once we had to rack our neurological cells to remember whether it was Hank Aaron or Barry Bonds who beat out Babe Ruth’s home run lead, and in what year, and whether being on steroids made it count or not – now, replaced by Google or some app that only two generations hence can figure out how to download and use?

Once upon a time, substance meant the essence of a person – whether by moral fortitude, steadfastness in faith or belief, or by quiet feats accomplished but never spoken about in polite company; and vacuity was relegated to braggarts and unfaithful husbands, when emptiness of societal discourse combined to free a man to declare that the Beatles were greater than Beethoven, and somehow it was imaginable that the words of Dylan could win a Nobel Prize, despite such accolades being the frenzied rebuttal of a generation who could fathom a purist’s discontent.

Uneducated boors possessed substantive vacuity; and so does the Federal Agency and the U.S. Postal Service that fails to try and accommodate the Federal or Postal worker who suffers from a medical condition, such that the medical condition results in the necessity to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits.

This is, indeed, a strange, strange world, and when a Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker comes to a point of needing to prepare, formulate and file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the concept of substantive vacuity comes to the fore because, after all, we are dealing with a bureaucratic nightmare in the form of the U.S. Office of Personnel Management – a behemoth among juggernauts, wrapped in the conundrum of a puzzled but substantive vacuity.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire