OPM Disability Retirement under FERS: Knowing What We Do

Human beings are the only species who pause and reflects upon whether or not what he is doing is done knowingly.

Self reflection; the ability to learn from past mistakes; the capacity to improve; the capability of admitting that we know not what we are doing, and to seek advice in order to fill the void from lack of knowledge — these are all qualities shared.

On the other hand, recent cultural and social upheavals in this country might test that concept.

Knowing what we do is important beyond doing what we do, because — if we are to still adhere to the Aristotelian concept in Western Philosophy that we are “rational” animals (and this may be a questionable presumption, these days) — knowledge, self-awareness and the capacity to comprehend the world around us are the very characteristics which lift us above the beasts abreast and allow us a glimpse of the angels above.

The primary prerequisite in knowing what we do, however, is to (A) Know when we do not know, and (B) have the humility to admit when we do not know what we are doing.

To that end, 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, knowing what we are doing in preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application through the Office of Personnel Management is a crucial step in winning the fight against OPM.

Contact a FERS Disability Lawyer who actually knows what he is doing, and begin the process of preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application under FERS.

Sincerely

Robert R. McGill
Lawyer exclusively representing Federal and Postal employees to secure their Federal Disability Retirement benefits under FERS from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

 

OPM Disability Retirement under FERS: The Disjunctive

In classical logic, the disjunctive can be posed in syllogistic form: Either A or B but not both; Not A; Therefore, B.  Jack lives in either Apartment A or in Apartment B, but not in both.  He does not live in Apartment A.  Therefore, Jack lives in Apartment B.

It is, in many ways, a crossroads, where the proverbial fork-in-the-road requires a decision.  What the disjunctive syllogism does not do, of course, is to take in the third option — of doing nothing; of not moving from decision-making to action; in which case, that third option often results in paralysis, further deterioration and consuming negation.

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, inertia at the crossroads of one’s career can result in the devastation of further ruination: Being placed on a Performance Improvement Plan; further deterioration of one’s own health; Termination from Federal Service.

Filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits under FERS is option B.  Option A is to remain at the job at the cost of one’s health, and that is certainly no option at all.  And option C?  To resign and walk away with nothing after all of that vested time with the Federal Government?  That, too, is not really a viable option.

Contact a disability lawyer to discuss the further particulars of your case, and consider the syllogistic value of the disjunctive.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill
Lawyer exclusively representing Federal and Postal employees to secure their Federal Disability Retirement benefits under FERS from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

 

Medical Retirement under FERS: Revisiting Updike

He wrote about mundane things; of middle class neighborhoods, Pennsylvania towns in which he grew up; farmlands before strip malls replaced them against the skyline of cornfield rows; and of affairs that grew naturally out of a revolution emancipated from the Sixties; of quiet sufferings and the rhythmic monotony of ordinary lives.

John Updike was an “in-betweener” — too young to fight in WWII, too old to have been drafter for the Vietnam debacle; and so he experienced the quietude and normalcy in between the two bookends of this country’s tumult and trials.

Updike was a voice for generations who saw the post-war era, of baby-boomers and American prosperity at its zenith; of the loss of any normative confluence of moral dictum and the abandonment of constraints once imposed by Protestantism.  All, of course, with a twinkle in his eye and a ready smile.  The Internet abounds with photographs of this uniquely American author — almost all with that thin smile as if he was about to share a private joke.

The Tetralogy of the Rabbit novels (actually a quintet if you include the last of the series, a novella entitled “Rabbit Remembered”) evinces a country gone soft after the harsh period of the Great Depression, the Second World War, the Korean conflict and the Vietnam era that undermined the ethical mandates known for generations before, unleashing a liberty of hidden sins like a bubbling cauldron of untamed desires.  But in the end, he is best known for the mundane, the ordinary, and how life in the suburbs of a prosperous nation left an emptiness unspeakable except by a voice given in narrative brilliance, from an author who was a regular contributor to The New Yorker.

Somehow, he made the ordinary seem exciting, even relevant.  By contrast, modernity has focused upon the rich and famous, and of greater unreachable glamour where perfection surpasses pragmatism.  Updike was able to make the commonplace seem important, the ordinary appear significant and the monotony of the mundane as not merely prosaic.  And isn’t that all that we seek, in the end?

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 loss of relevance, the ordinary and the commonplace is what often scares the Federal or Postal employee.

The job itself; the career; the monotonous routine of going to work, yet finding relevance in the act of “making a living” — these were all taken for granted in Updike’s short stories.  That other stuff — of infidelities and dalliances — were a deviation that Updike tried to point out as mere fluff in otherwise ordinary lives; and of medical conditions, they upend and disrupt the normalcy we all crave.

Federal Disability Retirement is a means to an end — of bringing back balance within a life that has become disrupted, but it is a way to bring back order where disruption to the mundane has left behind a trail of chaos.  And to that, the twinkle in Updike’s eyes and the thin smile would tell us that he would approve of such a move which will return you back to a life of mundane normalcy.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS & CSRS Disability Retirement: Ducks out of place

Ducks by the pond; out in the fields of wheat and grain; of picturesque paintings of a scene upon the countryside; in parks and near still waters; or on a farm where the pastoral beauty of serenity of times now gone forever, replaced by metal, concrete, the noise of technology and the sniping fire of man’s presence.

Then, 2 ducks — presumably male and female — land upon a winter’s edge in a suburban neighborhood, and make their nesting place for a fortnight’s term.  They stay.  They wander about between hedge groves that splinter and divide, and where fences left untended allow for lines of ownership to remain fallow with the decay of summer’s drought.

The people mill about and recognize their presence, and over time a truce remains where delight of settings long forgotten pace themselves with life’s forlorn smile that yes, perhaps time has lost upon the space of unrelenting callousness, where even the ducks out of place can no longer bring back the memories of youthful days when summer was but the sands of timeless waves when laughter boiled over and pleasures were yet innocent in days beyond the garden of Eden’s gates.

And we realize that, like the ducks left out of place who came mistakenly to believe that the pastoral interludes of gardens tended in the manicured lawns of suburbia represented the quietude of yesterday’s forests and streams allowing for peace upon a winter’s day, we are the misfits of a universe left to toil in the meandering thoughtlessness of cruelty’s longing.

Then, one night, the crazy neighbor whom everyone shunned, came out in the midst of night’s yawn and shot them both with a single shotgun blast.  The ducks out of place were left to remain in the misery of their misunderstanding, that somehow nature and man could find a compromise, when compromise’s twilight had long since been forgotten.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, where the medical condition begins to prevent the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, preparing a 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 — becomes a necessity when you begin to recognize that, like ducks out of place, you have become the “odd man out” within a Federal agency or the Postal Service that deems you to no longer be “worth” it.

Whatever the “it” is, you have become the castigated castaway that becomes the focal point of distrust and harassment.  Do not wait to hope that accommodations will be forthcoming; in the setting of a Federal Agency or the Postal Service, the pastoral picture of a helpful agency is rare and indifferent, and the best way forward is to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, submitted to OPM in order to avoid the fate of those ducks out of place.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Lawyer Representation for OPM Disability Claims: Cat’s Cradle

It is the complex game of strings wrapped around the small fingers and thumbs of each hand (or a modification of that contorted vestibule of human appendages), and where each player turns the cradle of the strings into greater complexity with each move by the other.

When children play it, the ease with which each turn of transforming the cradle of strings is a fascinating experience to witness.  When grown-ups do it — or, more accurately described, mess it up royally and invert the design into a an ugly bundle of irreversible entanglements that can no longer be played — the “overthinking” begins, the hesitation blockades and the uncertainty overwhelms.

It is always the grownups who mess up the beauty of the world’s designs, while children play it effortlessly, without conscious thought and with an innocence of proceeding that reveals much about what happens to an individual when you “grow up”.

Of course, we all have to grow up.  It is a sad inevitability.  That is why when the stunted individual who never quite got over his or her high school years, and still to this day talks about that grand finale of his senior year where the glory days of football, parties and friendships that were promised to last forever — that these frozen images yet remain so many years later as the pinnacle of one’s life and achievements — we shake our heads sadly and wonder at the fragile nature of man’s folly.

Cat’s cradle is the metaphor for much of life itself — of how simple childhood is, and yet so complex like the strings that bind the hands that create.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, where the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of the Federal job, the time to “think” about the next move — like the overthinking grownup who is asked to take the next step in the game of Cat’s Cradle — may seem complex because of its very simplicity.

There is the future to think about, and all that comes with it.  One’s career, health and future security are all entangled within the strings that wrap around and throughout one’s life, but the question that remains is similar to the conundrum of a Cat’s Cradle — is it you who will make sure that the next design of strings will turn out “right”, or will you leave it up to the Federal Agency or the Postal Service to determine your future course of actions?

Filing a Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, is a complex administrative process —much like the tangle of strings in a Cat’s Cradle —but it is the simplicity of deciding that will make all the difference as to whether the next move will be a successful one.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: “I would rather. . .”

The ellipses that follows is from the Ancient Greek that denotes “omission” or “that something which follows which is left blank”, and allows for wandering thoughts and meandering reflections to complete the lack.  What is the range of an acceptable addendum?  Does it matter what the prefatory statement allows for, and does the logic of its completion depend upon the spectrum of grammatical technicalities that confine and maintain boundaries of meaningful discourse?

For example, what if a person was asked to complete the incomplete sentence, and the response is:  “I would rather [red, blue, pink and all of the flowers in the universe].”  Would we say to the person, “Wait a minute, I asked you to complete the thought and you have provided me with gibberish.”?  And he/she comes back with:  “That’s how I would finish the sentence, because that’s how I feel.”   Would that be allowable?  Or, should the rules of grammar confine and restrict, so that the formality of completion should reflect a coherence that is expected and anticipated, such as, “I would rather [be at the beach than going into work today]”?

In the insular universe of private thoughts, of course, we can add whatever fanciful thoughts that infringe upon the uncertainty of our subconscious minds; but when the breach between private/public dichotomy occurs, suddenly we are thrown into an arena that restricts and confines, and compels us to follow the rules of conversational efficiency, including grammatical rules, traditional sense of coherence, logical consistency and meaningful conceptual constructs.  Exiting the arena of private thoughts right into the concentric complexities of the public world alters the rules of engagement.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to impact, prevent and block the Federal or Postal employee from performing all of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal job, the critical point of departure — from breaching that dichotomy between the insular world of the “private” and stepping over into the “public” — begins when first there is an admission that a “problem” exists.

Preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted ultimately to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, is likened to completing the fanciful thought that begins with, “I would rather…”.  The replacement of the ellipses can have many forms, restricted and delimited by grammatical constrictions and  restrictive contexts, but no Federal or Postal employee who begins the process ends such a sentence with, “I would rather … [be on disability retirement than be healthy and continue to remain in my chosen career].

Those who believe that there is a scintilla of coherence or meaningfulness in such a sentence do not know Federal and Postal employees.  Instead, it is a choice resulting from limited options, but sometime the best one available, as filing for an OPM Disability Retirement may be the only alternative where other such contingencies have already been exhausted.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement Benefits: The Day After

Long term healing for Federal and Postal employees with Federal Disability Retirement

Days after Holidays and vacations often magnify the troubles existent prior to; for, delay merely kicks the proverbial can down the unknown pathway of self-delusion, but in the objective world which surrounds us, our subjective attempts to manipulate reality through diversionary tactics of procrastination, merely results in the cumulative compounding of problems unresolved.  Medical conditions tend to do that.

Ignoring them fails to cure; self-medicating it without a proper diagnosis can further complicate the underlying condition and their manifested symptoms; and merely putting on a brave front rarely resolves the issue.  For Federal and Postal employees who find that they suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition prevents the Federal employee and the U.S. Postal worker from performing all of the essential elements of their positional duties, Federal Disability Retirement is an option to consider — not for purposes of resolving the medical issue itself, but for the underlying problem of time and attendance.

Medical conditions need time to heal; they require more than mere 3-days alliances of coinciding weekends and vacations.  Instead, Federal Disability Retirement allows for the Federal and Postal worker to take stock of one’s needs, attend to them, then move on in another vocation for the brighter future of a promising tomorrow. Federal Disability Retirement is a benefit offered through one’s employment with the Federal government, and is filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

As the day after often encompasses the problems of today, compounded by the unresolved issues of yore, so attending systematically to the proverbial elephant in the room will begin to resolve the incremental magnification of that which was conveniently ignored and bypassed during those sleepless nights of unwanted worry.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement Benefits under FERS & CSRS: The Art of Living

The imperfect medical science and taking the option of Federal Disability Retirement

Art is the unleashing of a creative mind, unconcealed to flourish without constraints of physical laws; science, in contrast, must follow the dictates of an objective universe, attempting to understand that which is concealed, unrevealed, and within the mysterious imprint of hidden codes.

Whether medical science is that far removed from latter days of sorcerers and shamans, people can debate; it is, however, the success of modern science and medicine, which establishes credibility with the populace.  But while disciplines rise or fall based upon the pragmatic considerations of success of the last procedure performed, people must go on living — in the face of disciplines yet imperfect.

Bloodletting was believed for centuries to maintain the balance of a person: blood, phlegm, black bile and yellow bile, constituted the necessary elements, and when any single element dominated the others, releasing the over-accumulation required bleeding of the body to regain that equity of humors.  If, in any singular instance of bloodletting, the patient became well thereafter and recovered from the malady, the “success” of the bloodletting would only have reinforced the underlying foundational principle behind the physical act and medical belief.

Living a life is often more akin to bloodletting than to the cold halls of science; for it is within the subjective confines of perspectives which predetermine the actions we often engage.

For Federal and Postal employees who suffer from a medical condition, the years and decades of attempting to “get better” by seeking medical treatment result in an inescapable reality:   If the science of medicine had reached a pinnacle of perfection, filing for Federal Disability Retirement would not be necessary; for, perfection in medicine would equal a cure. But as science is not a perfect principle, and neither is the art of living, so the practical truth is that one must resort to a metaphorical engagement of bloodletting: something in life has to give, and the imbalance of humors of yore is often the stresses of modernity.

Federal Disability Retirement, offered to all Federal and Postal employees under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is not the perfect option, but it is a recognition that the humors of life are out of balance, and need some bloodletting.

Work is the element which has become “over-accumulated”, and that is why Federal Disability Retirement is like the placing of leeches upon the sickened body:  it may not be the best option, but where art of living is concerned, the balancing of humors is often preferable to the crumbling halls of an ivory tower once thought to hold the key to the mysteries of life’s misgivings.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

FERS & CSRS Disability Retirement for Employees from the Postal Service and Other Federal Agencies: Things That Go Bump in the Night

The nightmare of filing for FERS Disability Retirement in times of financial, emotional, and medical needs

Whether or not childhood fear and traumas have a long-term impact in determinable ways upon reactive capacities later in life; to what extent regularity of behaviors, consistency of habitual living, and early imprinting mechanisms influence subconscious firings of synapses, remains within the mysterious realm of esoteric knowledge investigated and analyzed by the coalescence of science, philosophy and psychology; but it is the lay person who must, during the process of unfolding discovery and wisdom, live the consequences of actions impacted by others.

Sometimes, however, it is not what others do, but rather, circumstances which manifest of untold trauma and misery, for which no explanation but a shrug of one’s shoulders can presume.  Medical conditions fall into that category.  How one reacts to it; the extent of the impact upon one’s life, livelihood and future; and the preparations one must undertake in order to secure the betterment for one’s life when once you get beyond the condition itself, if ever; these are all concerns and pathways of responsibilities which fall upon a person who suddenly finds him or herself with a medical condition of significant magnitude.

Whether physical in nature — where orthopedic pain, limitation of flexion and movement; chronic pain, profound fatigue, or neurological issues resulting from disc desiccation, internal derangement of joints, etc.; or of psychiatric issues encompassing the many complex diagnoses, including Bipolar Disorder, pain and anxiety issues, Major Depression, depressive disorders; it matters not in the end, for either and both impact those decisions which one must make in determining the pathway of one’s future.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who find that a medical condition impacts one or more of the essential elements of one’s job, consideration must always be given to filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether one is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

For Federal Disability Retirement, preconditions and pre-existing conditions matter not; it is not like an OWCP claim where the focus of query may attempt to undermine a claim based upon the origin of the condition; and so the “how” and the “why” are not relevant issues, as in “how did it happen” or “why did it occur”?  The relevant inquiry does not encompass the “time before”; it does not delve into the deep reaches of one’s damaged psyche, or of preexistent traumas in the far recesses of damaged lives.

Whether or not things go bump in the night when once we become adults matters less, than the experiential trauma of having to deal with present issues that impact one immediately.  Taking care of life’s interruptions is a necessary component of living, and for Federal and Postal workers whose future avenue of livelihood is impacted by a medical condition, preparing, formulating and filing for Federal OPM Disability Retirement is of paramount importance.

Bumps always tend to occur in the night; it is what the “thing” is that we must identify and resolve, and what bodes for the uncertain future into which we must venture.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire