OPM Medical Retirement Legal Representation: Owing and debt

Why must advancement always entail greater complexity?  Or, is that merely the concurrent and natural evolution of linguistic modes of communication?  Do words ascribed and the antiquated, outdated philosophical concept of language as a “correspondence” between the objective world and the language games one plays (yes, an admixture of Bertrand Russell’s criticism and Wittgenstein’s deconstructionism combined) naturally result in the bungled world of complications as a mere afterthought to sophistication and the rise of a civilization?

The simplicity of a stone-age civilization, where pursuance of food and the bare necessities to survive – is that what can be termed a “simple” life, and therefore a primitive, less advanced (or none at all) civilization?  Does the capacity to invent, discover and apply technology by definition establish that a collective group of people has “advanced”, and is the advancement a reflection of greater complexity, or is complexity the hallmark of such advancement?  Can you have an “advanced” society and yet maintain a level of simplicity such that the pinnacle of such advancement is better defined by the simplicity of living standards?

And where does sophistication, culture and refinement of the arts fit in?  Does the fact that exchange of monetary currency, the involvement of extending credit and the concomitant issues of owing and debt necessarily arise in a complex society?  When did the concept of “owing” and the concurrent idea of a “debt” owed come into the daily consciousness of an individual, a society, a civilization?  And, was it first tied to the idea of money, then to an analogy about “favors”, obligations, return of bartered goods – or was the very idea of owing or being obligated to, and having a debt to be repaid, separate and apart from the exchange of currency?  We owe a “debt of gratitude”, and a sense of “owing” that which we borrowed, or the debt we are in, and there is the “debt ceiling” and bills yet to be paid, as well as a “debt of loyalty” – do these all arise from the origin of bartering and money-lending?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to prevent the Federal or Postal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of the Federal employee’s capacity and ability to continue in the career of one’s choice, there is often a sense of “owing” the Federal Agency or the Postal service “something” – one’s time, one’s gratitude, one’s commitment, etc.; and that the “debt” has to somehow be repaid by killing one’s self to the enslavement of work.

It is a false idea one clings to.  The “owing” one must first be concerned with is the debt to one’s self, first – of health, future orientation and obligations to a family one has brought into this world.  Don’t confuse concepts; and be aware of metaphors that have evolved from civilization’s greater complexity where advancement does not always mean greater complexity of confounding confusions.


Robert R. McGill, Esquire


Federal Disability Retirement under FERS & CSRS: DDD

It is what Moynihan said so many years ago, of constantly reinterpreting normative constructs such that the subtle, insidious reduction of acceptance allows for normalization of that which was rejected and repugnant just a few years before, a generation ago, or never at all.  Or, it may refer to a medical condition of the spine – of the condition identified as “degenerative disc disease”; but in either case, the acronym used as a convenient route for linguistic economy has some similarities involved.

For, in both cases, DDD allows for the slow and steady deterioration of a process – the former, of a cultural rot and standards once ensconced firmly in the very fabric of society; the latter, of a slow process of debilitating “eating away” that reveals a condition progressive over time, decaying by crumbling of bone, cartilage and repetitive overuse traversing time’s despondency due to labor’s unnatural pose.  Or, one can just make it up and ascribe it to a tripartite conceptual compound; for instance, “dual deficit denominations” or “dark, dim and dumb”, or other such consternations of linguistic accolades.

In any event, it is the original of the two that seems to share a common ground of meaning; for, in both, it is the essence of a slow process of change; one, cultural in nature, of an acceptance of lesser standards whether by willful determination or accidental submission; the other, the debilitating disease that – over time and resulting from old age – progressively worsens.  One could simplify the concepts by dismissing the first as “cognitive” and the other as “physical”.

In either case, for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical conditions, such that the medical condition impacts the Federal or Postal worker’s ability and capacity to continue in the same position and compels one to consider filing for Federal Disability Retirement, both concepts can apply.

For, an expansive and liberal interpretation of Moynihan’s argument is similar to the Federal or Postal employee’s acceptance of the lower standard both in terms of his or her quality of life, as well as in seeing the adversarial nature of the Federal agency or the Postal facility as “normal” in the treatment of its employees.  And, as to the “other” definition of DDD – of the chronic neck or back pain – whether in a sedentary job or a very physical one, the high distractibility of pain that impacts upon one’s capacity and ability to safely focus, concentrate and attend to the job itself is often a qualification for Federal Disability Retirement benefits.

Thus, the acronym itself – whether for “defining deviancy down” or as “degenerative disc disease” – can fit the proverbial bill in considering the option of Federal Disability Retirement benefits, submitted through another acronym of sorts – OPM – otherwise known as the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.


Robert R. McGill, Esquire


Federal Employee Disability Retirement: No time for empathy

Perhaps its disappearance and rarer occurrences are not because of defection of angels and loss of virtue from the circumference of human character, but for a much simpler reason:  We have no time for it, nor patience, nor capacity to embrace.  Often, the intersection between the reality of our social constructs and the loss of moral foundations mixes and makes obscure the ability to assign blame and causal connection to one or the other, but it is the cumulative and inseparable combination that results in the dire consequences we witness.

This technologically sophisticated world has no time for empathy.  All of that incessant talk about “connecting” and the importance of remaining constantly online, in-tune and involved in the virtual universe of Facebook, Snapchat, Tweets, text messaging, cellphone and other such modalities of electronic connectivity, the reality is that – from a purely objective perspective – each of the methodologies of communication are comprised of an illuminated screen with written words without warmth, human feeling nor organic nerve endings.

We communicate by means of those androids we created, expecting that exponential quantification of mechanical complexities can somehow qualitatively enhance our humanity, when in fact each such invention insidiously depletes and deteriorates.

Once, we scoffed at Chiefs and other indigenous characters who believed that the mystical capturing of one’s image by cameras and Daguerreotypes robbed and confined one’s soul, and now we make fun of those who believe that human contact is lessened by the tools of mechanized warfare; and so we decimated all tribes and their leaders, and leave behind in history books lost in the dusty shelves of an unread past the images robbed and lessened, and arrogantly giggle at those who complain of modernity and the technology of communication.

Empathy takes time.  We have no time left.

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 position, if waiting upon one’s agency to reveal and manifest some semblance of human empathy has been a patient discourse of frustration, you will not be the only one to experience such disappointment.

The fact is, empathy is a rare commodity, and showing its face of value is a search of futility more and more each day because of its scarcity.

Waiting for the Federal Agency or Postal Facility to accommodate your medical conditions?  Empathy is required, and nonexistent.  Expecting helpful information and cooperation from your Human Resource Office without fear of leaking sensitive information to coworkers and supervisors?  Empathy is necessitated, but clearly lacking.  There is no time for empathy, and it is better to begin the process of preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application without relying upon that which cannot be found even in the far corners of humanoid tablets we sit and stare at each day.


Robert R. McGill, Esquire


Federal Disability Retirement: Possibilities to pursue

In one sense, it is nonsensical to ask the question:  “Is it possible to…?”  For, is there any limitation to the concept of the possible?  Isn’t it possible that there are Martians on Mars, but in a parallel universe unseen and concealed from the human eye?  Isn’t it possible that the room you leave disintegrates molecularly, then reconstitutes itself the moment you reenter?  Isn’t it possible that it will rain tomorrow, despite the national weather service predicting otherwise (this latter example is actually not too absurd, as it is a regular occurrence experienced by most)?

Does it alter the significance and qualitative relevance of the query if, instead, we exchange the word with “probable”?   Does probability by numerical quantification of possibility negate the extremes and unfettered boundaries of the possible?  Does a statistical analysis make a difference – say, if a “scientist” asserts that the chances of Martians existing on Mars in a parallel universe unseen is 1-in-1 Billion (as opposed to 1-in-999 million – i.e., are such statements and declarations really accurate at all?) – to the extent that it somehow replaces with credibility the conceptual construct of the possible?

It is all very doubtful, and beyond some cynicism of puzzlement and suspicion that such statistical assertions constitute a perfection of any reasonable methodological approach, the reality is that for the person who is struck by lightening while golfing on a sunny day, that 1-in-a-trillion chance is negated by the 100% probability that he or she was, in fact, in reality, struck by lightening, no matter what the statistical analysis declares.

In the end, probability analysis places some semblance of constraints upon the fenceless conceptual paradigm of possibilities, but it is the latter which compels man to attempt feats beyond the probable, and it is the former which places a reality check upon the limitless creativity of fools, madmen and eccentric geniuses throughout history.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are considering the possibility of pursuing a Federal Disability Retirement application, whether the Federal employee or U.S. Postal Worker is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the question often constraining is the probability consensus of “success” – and, yes, that is a consideration that the reality of a bureaucracy and administrative process should face and take into consideration.

In the end, the possibility of a successful filing can be enhanced by the probability factors that are required by law:  A methodological approach; a supportive doctor who is willing to provide a narrative connecting the dots between the medical condition and the essential elements of one’s positional duties; a systematic legal argumentation that provides a “road-map” for the Administrative Specialist at OPM; and an understanding that the possibilities to pursue can be qualitatively quantified by the probability of supportive documentation.  Go figure.


Robert R. McGill, Esquire


Federal Disability Retirement: Life’s perverse fullness

As children, many are taught that life’s promise is unlimited in potentiality, full in its discourse of uncharted waters, and expansive in its promise for tomorrow.  Somewhere, in middle-to-late years, we begin to have a somewhat more “balanced” view: not of fullness merely painted with hope and promise, but with graffiti unasked for, undesired and unwanted: the perverse side of fullness.

Life can indeed contain and present a “full plate” (as metaphors go), but the question then becomes: What is on that plate?  When a potluck dinner is coordinated, there is an interesting phenomenon that occurs, where judgments are fairly quickly made by the systematic depletion of certain foods, and the untouched portions carefully avoided.  Anonymity is crucial to the success of the endeavor itself, but defensiveness is easily assuaged by the general rules of etiquette when asked and confronted: “Oh, I plan on getting seconds” or, “My plate is too small to get everything the first round!”

Excepting social pressures and avoiding hurt feelings, we all tend to gravitate towards that which we desire; yet, we also put on our plates the food items that “balance” the diet – with knowledge and admonitions that certain foods are “healthy” for us, while avoiding those that we have specific allergic reactions to, or otherwise leave us with uncomfortable residual gastronomic pains.

Every now and again, of course, we take on too much – or, as the saying goes and the wisdom that we impart to our children, “My eyes are too big for my stomach”.  It is then that we surreptitiously look for the hidden garbage bin, and infelicitously dump the “leftovers” beneath the mountain of other paper plates, and quickly scurry away from the scene of the crime committed.  Yet, why we fret over an infraction of taking on too much, is often a mystery; is it because waste balanced by greedy overreach combines to reveal a character flaw?  Or is it much simpler than that – that we are often too hard on ourselves?  Taking on “too much” is not a crime; it is simply an anomaly in the general dictum of life’s perverse fullness.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal Service workers who are at a critical juncture where filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits – whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset – becomes a necessity, it is often the case that one’s “life-plate” has become overburdened: work, career, personal obligations, medical conditions, effects of surgery, etc. – the balance can no loner be maintained.  Something has to “give”, and whatever that “something” is, it usually ends up further impacting one’s health.

Filing for OPM Disability Retirement benefits should not be forever stuck on the “pause” button; the longer it stays in a rut, the greater opportunity for deterioration and detriment to one’s health.  We often wait until it is almost “too late”; but just remember that, where life’s perverse fullness includes one’s deteriorating health, it is never a good thing to leave that which is most important, untouched – one’s health.  And, as Federal Disability Retirement is a means to allowing for one’s health to improve so that, perhaps, one day, a second career, vocation, or further productivity can be achieved, so 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 often the portion of the potluck meal that requires first attention.


Robert R. McGill, Esquire


FERS & CSRS Disability Retirement: Throwing caution to the wind

Rash acts rarely reward with corresponding clarity; it is in the very thoughtlessness which denotes the chasm between man’s vaunted rationality and the capacity for folly.  In the end, the very idea of throwing caution to the wind shows the precursor of a necessary posit:  In which direction is the wind blowing?  For, if what is thrown is rebounded right back, like a boomerang designed to be handed back to its originator, then what use was the initial act?

Even acts which appear to be based upon folly, youthful exuberance or momentary madness, must by fiat declare itself as predisposed to prior deliberation; otherwise, rashness become ineptitude, and allowance remains arbitrariness.  It is, indeed, this notion of man’s necessity by self-definition to determine his or her course for the future by already-known steps and discerned future; yet, the future is precisely that — a time somewhere hence which defies definitive boundaries of clarity.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who must 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, the very issue of filing and becoming medically retired is often forestalled precisely because such an act of filing for Federal OPM Disability Retirement is often tantamount to throwing caution to the wind.  Yet, determination of actions must not always be governed by rational discourse of thought; instead, the human condition itself will often reveal the ineptitude of cautionary hesitation.

There is a wide chasm between thought and action, and evolutionary biology inserted the space of hesitation for a good reason:  data left uninterpreted is mere information of useless value.  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 gap between thought and action is nothing more than fear unbounded.

Filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM becomes a necessity, precisely because caution can no longer be the reason for hesitation; the winds have already shifted, and what will be blown back in rebounding ferocity is the agency’s punitive actions for refusing to leave, and not the spit which you tried to force into the face of the gods of fate.


Robert R. McGill, Esquire