FERS Disability Attorney Blog: Lack of Predictability

Some reviewers have lauded Ishiguro’s fourth work, The Unconsoled, as his “masterpiece” — following upon what he is universally known for, The Remains of the Day.  It is a book which one either loves or hates.  At over 500 pages, it is a novel which meanders and confuses, like a modern stream of consciousness contorted within a dream.

It is about a world-renowned musician over a period of 4 days who cannot get anything done, and who is left frustrated by delays, distractions and deluges of interrupting requests upon his valuable time.  It is a metaphor for most of life — until, in the end, on a circular tram which offers a sense of regularity and repose, the contrast between a linear perspective as opposed to a circular one is finally attained.

The Unconsoled reflects the life of most of us: Of bumps and interruptions, of frustrations and demands upon our limited time on this earth — until we find that “rhythm” on a trolley which provides for a short stint of tranquility.

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, finding that tram or trolley of rhythmic predictability can be attained by preparing, formulating, filing and obtaining a Federal Disability Retirement annuity.

It will allow you to focus upon your health, and get you away from the stresses of the work which you can no longer do.

Contact a FERS attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law and begin the process of getting away from the unpredictable interruptions of life, and get on the trolley of a more healthy lifestyle beyond the unconsoled.

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 for Federal Workers: Believing in something

It is difficult, these days, to do so.  One can, by rote of habit, engage in the taciturn void of Gregorian chants, of hardened wood to kneel upon in prayerful silence where altar boys were muffled in horror in backrooms somewhere behind the hidden conscience of priests who, holy though they appeared, were but men of fleshly wants; or of giving when the televangelist prayed for miracles and allowed the camera angle to capture the piety of a winking heart.

Modernity defies believing in something.  We scoff at piety because we learned long ago that priests in dark robes were merely cloaked in outward appearances while engaging in acts of desecration behind closed doors, and gurus who rode around in expensive cars while preaching the gospel of meditative calm possessed devious thoughts untold behind craggy beards and beady eyes; and so we have lost the capacity for believing in something, anything, and let our children roam the streets of nihilism, sensual extortions of human bondage and the virtual reality of video consoles, only to be disappointed when they find emptiness in their lives reflective of an endless chasm of dreamless nights.

Once upon a time, Johnny believed in things; and then the marching band stopped when wars became endless, where speeches no longer carried the weight of conscience and greed seemed rampant in the daily lives of believers and beggars alike.  A priest once told this writer that he wished that the Church would sell all of its assets and go back to being the mendicant preachers we once were; but that was years ago, and not much has changed.

For most of us, we continue to cling to the thin reed of possibility; for the rest of us, we must contend with the reality of life’s trials: of work; family; health and friendships; and perhaps the belief in a tomorrow yet to be fulfilled with promised days of warm memories.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition where the medical condition has begun to prevent one’s ability and capacity to perform one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, believing in something is a foundation for the next steps to take: Of a Statute in Federal Disability Retirement Law that sets forth a criteria to be met, and then to set about proving that one has met them.

Often, believing in something is nothing more than acting upon a need and setting about fulfilling that need; and for Federal and Postal employees who need to file for a FERS Disability Retirement, consulting with an attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law is the first step towards believing in something that you have a right to believe in.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Attorney for Federal Disability Retirement Claims: The concise sentence

What is the difference between being concise and performing with precision?  The former is often applied in the universe of words and communication; the latter, in areas where quantitative measuring tools can be determined, such as in science or in mathematical sectors.

We say of a person who speaks voluminously but with little substance that he or she represents the antonym of conciseness; and so a comparison is often made between volume spoken or written and concepts or thoughts conveyed.  Of Literature, most would agree that Hemingway is the representative paradigm of conciseness, whereas Joyce and Faulkner reflect the very opposite, though all three are considered classic and great authors.

Do we excuse such authors as Joyce and Faulkner because, in literature, we tend to focus upon the stylistic brilliance of their writings as opposed to the “meaning” that captures the undercurrent of their works?  In other words, although they may give us “too many” words and thus are, by definition, lacking of conciseness, we nevertheless overlook such imprecision precisely because we do not attribute “amount” as the necessary and sufficient cause of determining the worth of good authorship.

Hemingway used to say that, in writing, he had already formulated each sentence before setting it upon paper, whether in handwriting (a lost art) or at the typewriter (a manual, when those contraptions existed and where the clack-clack of metal keys pounded deep into the twilight of a writer’s life).

Why do we applaud and celebrate the concise sentence?  Does it make a difference whether or not a sentence, say, with 7 words communicates a thought as opposed to a paragraph with a thousand words that conveys the identical conceptual construct?

Take the following 2 examples: 1. Lessening of debt equals wealth. Or, 2: If you have less to owe to others, then it is the same as savings; or, as Benjamin Franklin used to say, a penny saved is a penny earned, and the reality of it all is that we have more to spend and retain wealth, not so much because you have more money, but you have more because less is spent on paying other people your hard-earned dollars.

Now, both sentences convey essentially the same meaning.  The first one, however, is comprised of 5 words. The second one took…many words to communicate the same thought.  Does it matter whether a concise sentence is used, as opposed to one that is not, if the same two convey identically reflective thoughts?

It might make a difference, because of one factor that has not been discussed: Being concise often possesses the added feature of being precise, and precision is important in the accuracy of conveying thought.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are thinking about preparing, formulating and filing 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, there is a dual-key component to preparing the SF 3112A, Applicant’s Statement of Disability: Be concise, but do not forego length for completeness.

In other words, being concise in order to convey the proper information is important; but, at the same time, do not sacrifice wordiness just because of the limited “boxes” that are provided on SF 3112A.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire
Postal & Federal Employee Attorney

 

CSRS & FERS Disability Retirement: Life’s silent opera

Is not much of opera a booming voice, a lingering chord and the grand mayhem of combining movement with long, loud and hanging sounds emitted from men and women who are born with a talent rarely heard?  So, can there be a silent opera?  An opera where movement and gestures are seen, but when the performers open their mouths, only silence come out?  If one-half of opera is the singing and the uniqueness of voices, while the other half is comprised of extravagant costumes and sets that tell the narration of the story through dramatic display, can life be bifurcated any more than an opera?

And, yet, isn’t that what much of life is – of a silent opera, where we notice, recognize and even sometimes acknowledge the movements of another person, but rarely listen or hear anything about that person?  How well do you know the person sitting next to you, or your next door neighbor whom you have seen for over a decade?

We ask not questions that might query and squeeze out narratives otherwise unknown and ignored, and so long as we attend life’s silent opera, we only glean half of the story, if that.  And to others, likewise, we are life’s silent opera.  They mind their own business, and we ours; and that is what we call “privacy” and the heart of individualism, as opposed to “collectivism” or, in more picturesque settings, of a “community” – something which we fool ourselves into believing exists, anyway, but spending countless hours of valuable time searching the Internet and engaging in make-believe that Facebook is a “community”.

Then, of course, life’s silent opera often includes a medical condition, or some pain or trauma experienced or currently undergoing, but of which no one else is aware.  The movements are still there, and even the extravagant settings.  Perhaps a person walks with a limp, or as he or she sits down, an involuntary grimace shadows the expression; yet, no complaint is made, no sound is emitted, and so we are satisfied with half of the storyline.

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 worker’s job, life’s silent opera begins.

It is time to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, because – while no one acknowledges the “voices” and “sounds” of the medical condition, the “movements” are there, of the Agency beginning to realize less-than-acceptable performance; of using too much SL or extending one’s FMLA and remaining on LWOP; and while no one may say anything, the rumblings of Agency harassment and impending termination may be just around the corner.

Filing for Federal Disability Retirement is the next logical step in this extravagant setting of life’s silent opera, where even the main actors are no longer interested in whether the audience hears your voice or not.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS & CSRS Disability Retirement: The Redshirt

In athletic parlance, it refers to an individual and a status, allowing for a fifth year of eligibility when the rules mandate a restriction to a four-year period.  The word itself is quite malleable, and reflects well the technicality involved in avoiding the direct letter of the language.  Being a redshirt (noun), a redshirt freshman (adjective) or redshirted in his first year (verb) reveals to us the capacity of language to jump like grammatical forms of hopscotching that amazes and intrigues; and the cautionary prelude to a wink-and-a-nod is prefaced with, “You are being too literal”.

It only proves the point, doesn’t it — of the age-old adage that rules are created with the intent of being broken; or, at least bent in order to fit?  For, once such rules were imposed in order to allow for “fairness” in collegiate sports, the “legal technicians” (i.e., lawyers) went immediately to work upon coming up with novel interpretations, strategies for avoidance, and advice to extend beyond what the limitations allowed.

“Redshirting” was one of the devised methodologies – of allowing for everything up to the critical line of demarcation:  that of playing in a game itself.  Thus, the redshirt can practice with the team throughout that entire year of eligibility, but such actions do not count; the redshirted freshman can attend classes, be a full-fledged partner in the “college life”, and yet his participation is not marked against him or her; and to be redshirted in that year of eligibility allows for growth, maturity, advancement in development – all without “using up” a year of eligibility by being sacked a hundred times during the season and becoming a shattered soul devoid of self-confidence and losing assurance of one’s talents and skills.

It is, within the athletic community of college consortiums, a brilliant strategy to deftly avoid the burden of rules; for the greater society, it reflects the essence of what is wrong, precisely because it is a deliberate attempt to avoid the literal language of the rules.  Yet, that is true of almost everything in life, is it not?

Careful study; identifying the loopholes; then initiating the strategy to maneuver around landmines and obstacles.  Is it any different than a hunting party tracking a prey, sniffing out the signs of predatory confirmation and taking in information and adapting accordingly?  Rules, regulations and laws may well be designed, initially, at least, to address a specific problem; and, out of the cauldron of an enacted statutes, comes multiple other problems and issues because of the malleability of words and imprecise linguistic pauses.

Preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application is no different.  It is a necessary prerequisite to identify the legal language of eligibility; define the issues; identify whether or not the Federal or Postal employee considering such an option “fits into” the legal criteria circumscribed; then to proceed to “redshirt” one’s own situation and devise a methodology for eligibility.

Compiling the evidence, formulating the proper narrative, and presenting 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, can thus be likened to the redshirting of a freshman – in order to extend one’s life beyond the debilitating medical conditions otherwise shortening the career of a promising Federal or Postal employee.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

The Devaluation of the Federal Employee with Disabilities

Countries engage it deliberately with its currencies; economic circumstances force it based upon fluctuating market volatility; and the basic principles in capitalism of supply and demand will often expect it.

Currencies are never stable indexes despite the best attempts by countries to manage and control their economies; the fact is, in this interconnected world of global economic entanglement, devaluation of worth can occur overnight, just after the soft breathing of nightfall overtakes, but before the dawn of first light when the halls of stock markets in faraway colonnades lined in symmetrical facades open their doors for the business of commodity markets.

Fortunes can be made, and lost, overnight; but the devaluation of that which implicates worth, can just as easily fall upon the human soul.  Medical conditions tend to do that.  We exchange, trade, value and appraise based upon a commodity’s supply, demand, desire and greed of want; but when it comes to human beings, though we deny such callous approaches, the encounter with such baseness still prevails.

For the Federal employee or the U.S. Postal worker, facing devaluation is nothing out of the ordinary when a medical condition hits.  Once the Federal or Postal worker suffers from a medical condition, such that the medical condition prevents one from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s positional duties, the avenue of choices becomes starkly clear:  One can try to hang on; one can walk away with nothing to show for those many years of dedicated and loyal service; or one can file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether one is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

It is the last of the tripartite alternatives which is the best option, and one which can secure a future for the Federal or Postal employee.  For, ultimately, the whole point of devaluation in paradigms of economic theory, is to stabilize the currency for future years; it is the experience of short-term suffering to attain long-term calm.  Economics is merely a microcosmic reflection of a macro-global perspective, and application of parallel principles are relevant to situations which might otherwise appear foreign.

Federal agencies and the U.S. Postal Service engage in devaluation, just as governments do, when the worth of the Federal employee or the U.S. Postal worker is seen in terms of productivity for the moment, and not for the long-term benefit gained for the future.

We live in a world of short selling trades; everything is seen for the immediacy of gain; but fortunately for the Federal or Postal worker who must contend with the attitude and approach of a Federal agency or the U.S. Postal Service in viewing the devaluation of the worker based upon productivity, the option of filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM is one which is available, attractive, and allowable for those who are eligible to prepare, formulate and file for the benefit.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal OPM Disability Retirement Lawyer: The Scent of Decay

Animals steer clear of it; the growing stench is a warning, a harbinger for the wary; it is only an attraction to vultures and other scavenging birds of prey; civilized societies deal with it by slapping an FDA food label on items, long before the bacteria of decomposition begins to cannibalize and self-immolate.

The reality of the olfactory response is to curl up one’s nostrils; the metaphor encapsulates the recognition of weakness and vulnerability, and the herd mentality of attacking the weakest in the evolutionary race of disseminating one’s greater gene pool by diminishing the population of the weak, thus providing a justifying basis for extermination and dominance.

In the microcosmic context of a Federal workplace, the scent of decay compels a reconstituting of loyalties and forgetfulness of past accomplishment; what you did yesterday, matters little; what you have the potential to do, matters most; what you can no longer do, destroys all mattering.

For U.S. Government employees and Postal workers, the time for change comes not necessarily with the seasons of nature, but when a medical condition begins to impact one’s ability and capacity to perform all of the essential elements of one’s positional duties.  Medical conditions represent vulnerability; and whether the Federal or Postal employee has the best of relationships with one’s supervisor, coworkers or the agency and department as a whole, the scent of decay immediately follows upon a diminution of productivity and potentiality.

The evolutionary human instinct to follow the dominant and ignore the vulnerable is one which defies replacement by artifice and societal niceties; suddenly, the star employee has found disfavor, and it matters not whether the fault can be attributed to laziness, incompetence — or a medical condition which cannot be controlled or helped.

OPM Federal Disability Retirement is an employment benefit which accompanies all Federal and Postal employees who are under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset; it allows for Federal and Postal employees who can no longer perform one or more of the essential elements of one’s job, because of a medical condition, to obtain an annuity in order to move forward in one’s life.  Once obtained, there is a possibility for a second vocation, and to earn up to 80% of what one’s (now former) Federal or Postal position currently pays, on top of the Federal Disability annuity itself.

As man lives no more in the wilds of pure survivability, where beast and burdens of hunger have been replaced by white collars and polite salutations of meaningless vacuity; so the appearance of empathy and magnanimity of intent may mask, for a time, the scent of decay; until the pounding hoof prints fade in the settling dust of that herd which sensed the vulnerability, where the howling pack of wolves and wild beasts come gathering in the twilight of snarling tensions; and standing still in a forest of wild beasts will not save the doe from the savagery of civilized society; for, while headlight hunting may be outlawed, it is the frozen deer in the headlights which waits upon a desolate tundra while the scavengers await the reaching arms of the scent of decay.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire