OPM Medical Retirement for Federal Government Employees: On Hold

It is a frustrating time; that moment when you have finally reached a “real person”, and the voice quickly says, “Let me put you on hold for a moment” — and the sudden silence which ensues, or the supposedly uplifting background music that blares.  “But I —” you attempt to quickly interject; but the finger punching the button for “hold” is quicker than the “but” with which your voice tries to override, and the further frustration is again postponed as you wait silently in growing rage.

Or of a career “on hold”; or one’s life in general.

Much of being placed on hold is because of circumstances beyond your control; for, contingencies rely upon the actions of third parties, and until the dependent clauses are satisfied, movement of the primary sentence structure must remain in place, lest the comma that encircles the dependent clause fails to complete the thought that follows.

For Federal and Postal employees who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal employee from performing all of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the feeling of being placed “on hold” is a familiar one: Medical conditions tend to do that.  It places one in suspended animation, not allowing you to move forward with your life until there is some resolution.

Consult with an attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law, and consider whether or not filing and obtaining a Federal Medical Retirement annuity might be the best next course of action in order to move on with your life and get beyond the “on hold” status of your present situation.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS Employees with Disabilities: Implicit and Explicit

Say a person is playing golf, hits the ball badly and yells out loudly, “Fore!”  In his mind, however, the individual has the word spelled wrongly — say, as “Four” or “For”, or any number of alternative ways.  When first heard, he had thought that it was spelled in the commonplace, conventional way.  Does it matter?  Doesn’t the fact that homophones exist become an issue of “right” or “wrong” only if the implicit clashes with the explicit? (What a terribly and awkwardly stated question).

Homophones not only “sound” the same, but may also be spelled differently.  They are in the “family” of homonyms because they sound alike but have different meanings; similarly, there are words that also sound the same, are spelled the same, but have different meanings, as in: “She rose from her seated position to smell the rose.”  Here again, what if the person repeated the sentence but thought that the first “rose” was somehow referring to the flower while the second rose concerned the manner of posture (if such transfer of meanings is even possible) — would it make a difference?

The “implicit” world of understanding encapsulates the privacy of our insular world; the “explicit” brings forth and unveils that previously-unrevealed universe, and tests it against the objective world of contending ideas.  It is somewhat akin to pain — that subjective phenomena which may or may not be capable of being ascertained, verified or confirmed by diagnostic testing or reactive muscle spasms.

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, it becomes necessary to make the “implicit” explicit in order to qualify for Federal Disability Retirement benefits.  Gathering the necessary information in order to formulate properly one’s Federal Disability Retirement case is to make explicit that which may have remained deliberately implicit.

That is where consultation with an experienced attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law becomes crucial in properly making explicit that which remained implicit, in order to “test” the viability of a very private and confidential matter.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Lawyer for Federal Disability Retirement Claims: Games

How do we learn how to play them?  If we play Game-X, must we follow “all” of the rules ordinarily known and ascribed in order for Game-X to still be recognizable as such, or does it become “Modified Game-X”.

If little Toby plays his first game, but doesn’t know the rules, yet nevertheless realizes that games are “fun” because everyone else is smiling and seemingly excited, does the fact that the kid-who-knows-no-rules plays without knowing the limits and boundaries of the game make him into a participant, or a pariah?  Of course, if he stamps his feet in the middle of the game and declares that he doesn’t like the game, and walks off (even taking with him the proverbial ball), can we declare him to be a poor sport, an okay-sport, or any sport at all if he never knew the rules of the game in the first place and therefore never quite played the “real” game?

How about dogs — do they “play” games?  The dog that chases the ball but doesn’t want to bring it back to the ball-thrower, and instead runs away with it — has he broken the “rules of the game”?  How is it that dogs play games with their masters without ever being able to explain what the parameters of the rules are?

Then, of course, there is the slight modification in the term “games”, as in “games that people play”.  We all know what that means — of being insincere, fake, or otherwise putting on a double-face.  Why is that called a “game”?  Is it because it is not real, and constitutes a copy of “make-believe”, much like playing a game when we all know that it is not reality that is being rehearsed; and yet, isn’t playing a game — any game — just a part of the reality of the world we live in?  Why, then, is life bifurcated between “games” and “reality”, when in fact both are real in the sense that we are living a life of surviving, making a living, etc.?  Yet, we constantly distinguish between “playing” and “living”, as if there is a difference to be 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 worker from any longer performing all of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal worker’s job, career or craft, the preparations needed to come to a point of realizing that an effective Federal Disability Retirement application must be filed, often requires a recognition that the proverbial “game” is “up”.

Whether the Supervisors and Managers at the Federal Agency or the Postal Facility are up to their usual “games” or not — of harassment, derisive comments, making your life “hell” by increasing the levels of pressure or stress, is really besides the point.  What matters is that life itself is not a “game” at all, and those who separate games from the daily living activities don’t really “get it”.

Medical conditions bring to the forefront the reality of living, and the harshness of how people treat other people.  Yes, 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, may seem like just one of those other “games” that have to be “played” — but the reality is that an effective OPM Disability Retirement application is a necessary part of life’s many facets of games and reality-based endeavors, such that the “rules of the game” always need to be consulted in order to “play” it well, and thus the first step is to learn the rules by consulting with an attorney who can advise on the rules themselves.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Attorney Representation OPM Disability Retirement: The dreams we forego

At what point did we grow up?  For, isn’t that the underlying theme of popular depictions in modernity — of people pursuing those “bucket lists” when mortality finally touches upon the recognition that life is short, oh so brutally short?

“Growing up” is defined by most as the moment when all dreams are set aside, “reality” replaces by the whims of a chosen career, a 401-K and a trade-in of the beloved fourth-hand Beamer for a hybrid of some unknown brand.

“Responsibility” is the key term, and those childhood dreams we forego are not so much replaced but set aside in quiet exchanges of euphemisms we become so adept at declaring — of “suspending it for now”; “When we’re able to get better cash flow”; “When the right time comes”; or maybe that catch-all, “It just wasn’t to be”.  Or, maybe true love delayed the dream, and there is certainly nothing wrong with that — where a lesser sacrifice is made in order to attain a greater good or desired end.

“Giving up” things is too often thought of as something “negative”; and so we make unrealistic and unwise promises to ourselves that we will never again “give up” X or Y, and years later, the skeleton that continues to strive onward, even to the detriment of one’s own wellbeing, continues upon the empty promise despite having forgotten why the promise was made in the first place.

The dreams we forego had a reason back then; it is the “now”, when we refuse to change and stubbornness sets in, that is the real problem.  For, back then, it wasn’t actually the “dream” that was let go that was a problem at all; it was the fact that we were able to be so adaptable that revealed the strength of our character.  Now, as one gets older, it is stubbornness that becomes the problem — the inability to modify, to adapt, to change; in short, to forego in the same manner that we were able to when once we were young.

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, is the “problem” one of not being able to change?

To one’s detriment — of the deteriorating health, of the constant struggle at work, and the growing awareness that one is no longer that spry chicken able to ignore the chronic pain and overwhelming anxiety; and yet, the ultimate question becomes, For what end?

Preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, is not the same animal as the dreams we once abandoned; it is, instead, another stage of one’s life, and if resentment and anxiety are growing concerns that are beginning to haunt, it is well past the time to “grow up” and begin to prepare a pathway to exit the hell that is beginning to percolate.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS & CSRS Disability Retirement: Of that unanswerable question

Why?  Or, the one which all parents dread, Are we there, yet? (as asked not 2 minutes after the engine has been turned on in anticipation of a 10-hour trip).  There is, then, the question posed by Bertrand Russell, as to the meaning of language, its correspondence to the physical world around us, and whether a truth value can attach itself to statements which fail to reflect the reality surrounding: Is the present king of France bald? Or does he have a full head of hair? As the country is currently a republic, sans a recognized king, there can be no identifiable royal head, with or without a scalp’s landscape of cover crops.

Then, of course, there is the underlying motive hidden beneath or behind.  Is a rhetorical question a question at all?  For, if the proposed query is merely to emphasize a point, but never intended to elicit an answer, and yet asked in an accented manner and an enunciated tone such that there can be no doubt as to the grammatical form posited, is it the convention of usage which negates the form, or merely the self-evident proposition betrayed by the obviousness of the context asked?

And, what if the audience is predominantly of foreigners who speak the language with minimal proficiency?  Does lack of comprehending the nuances of what native speakers of the language would easily identify as a “rhetorical” question, nullify the nature of such a characterization merely by such failure of understanding, by one’s status as a foreigner, or is it completely and fully determined by the insular and unrevealed motive of the one who asks?  And if, of that person, we ask, “Did you mean the question to be one of a rhetorical nature?” — and the only response is a mysterious, unrecognizable smile, interpreted as either noncommittal or perhaps revealing vestiges of the insane — does it still make it so?

And what of the convoluted question, if there is no judge on the bench to direct the inquisitor to “rephrase the question”, as in: What time did you enter the victim’s home when you left your wet footprints on the white rug before you stepped on the tail of the poodle and waited before the dog yelped just as you plunged the knife for which you never said you were sorry, huh? “Huh” would be the correct response, of course, before the bench would ask for a rephrasing, or in anticipation of an objection to a “leading” question — but is not a “rhetorical” question one which is “leading”, also, and do the circumstances surrounding the query matter?  Does the fact that a leading question posed in a courtroom differ from one presented by a reporter during an interview, or by a parent to a child?

Often, questions tell more about the source than of the elicited destination.  When personal choices and private timings confer the greater influences upon the manner of the answer, the mere asking of the question may be an answer unto itself.

Thus, for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are contemplating filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, the question posed is often: Is it time for me to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits?  Or, should I wait until the Agency or the U.S. Postal Service completely destroys any quality in my life? This latter question, of course, is what can be deemed a “rhetorical” question, whether English is a second-language or a first.

As for the one preceding — well, of that unanswerable question that only the questioner can know, the mere asking of the question is telling as to the questioning nature of the answer left unanswered, like the baldness of the present king of France and the fact that there is no judge in the courtroom of common sense to direct the questioner to rephrase a question which is quite obvious by the mere asking of that question.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

OPM Medical Retirement: The attic where useless things are kept

As a metaphor, it refers to the mind, whether because of similar spatial location or by analogy of clutter and vacuity (concepts which are not mutually exclusive, for the former does not imply knowledge, whereas the latter is a negation of it).  The common adage, “Out of sight, out of mind”, applies aptly, as it is the last refuge before it becomes refuse, but somehow is kept because a pause, an indentation, a comma extended the effort of a terminal decision.

Perhaps sentimentality pulled the strings of childhood memories, where the deep recesses of warmth and traipsing through cold streams on summer days and laughter in rolling through careless days of yore attached itself to an item too old to value but not useless enough to discard.

Memories have value, too, you know; they just don’t trumpet the monetary gains in a world devoid of feelings beyond the pocketbook.  The childhood delight of walking up into granddad’s attic, where treasures untold would unfold to the limitless imaginations of a time when entertainment knew not the computer screen nor the smartphone, but carved simplicity of flutes, toy soldiers and great battles where valor and victory filled the silent air.

Houses no longer have stairs to reach the heights of that place of refuge, where sadness would find solace in the quietude amongst dusty suitcases and wedding dresses out-of-fashion but for the beaming bride in photographs fading in crinkled corners of brown discoloration.  Now, we merely have a square entrance cut into the ceiling of the top floor.

Somehow, when stairways were erased from the architect’s mind, the disappearance of the physical means to reach that remaining refuge where loneliness entered and the quiet pitter-patter of mice and old men wandered, the timeless period of pause, peace and calm of perpetuity ceased to exist.  The pencil which erases is more than a negation of thought; it is the end of an era which valued time, relationships and the conversation muted beyond the crackling of a winter’s fire.  The attic where useless things are kept; is that why we treat each other so abominably?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, where the medical condition no longer allows for the great extent of productivity previously enjoyed — suddenly, the Federal agency and the Postal Service treats you like the refuse thrown into the attic, but with no stairway to come back down.  No accommodations are found; you are treated like the pause before the trash bin and the comma before the flush of the toilet.

That is why the option exists for the Federal or U.S. Postal employee to prepare, formulate and file for 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.

For, in the end, while the attic is indeed the place where useless things are often kept, it is up to the Federal or Postal employee to begin constructing the staircase which was erased by the thoughtless architect who knew not the future plans for a greater tomorrow; and that is precisely why, for all of those bygone years, you kept that old wooden toboggan — to slide down that next hill where childhood memories still enliven.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: Of things (which should be) hidden

Perhaps it is a moment of repose, when relaxation allows for an unflattering silhouette or an act with hands which reach for things not publicly accepted; or of an insight into the depths of a soul, better left concealed, congealing unexpectedly before one’s eyes despite best or better attempts to suppress or repress.

We all assume certain aspects of a person’s life, and when they appear not within the slice of images presented to the public eye, we do not take notice because the presumption remains throughout.  Thus do bathroom scenes remain irrelevant throughout most of the history of film, and have only made their debut as titillating artistry masked as prurient creativity encroaches in subtle increments upon our sensibilities (with the obvious exception, of course, of Hitchcock’s scene of the curtained shadow).

Somehow, despite our incessant clatter of protestations to the contrary, the privacy of our lives become exposed and elevated to a pedestal of a declarative rumination, like the child-actor who accepts the adoration of public applause in place of the denied love of a parent.  The lowest of our essence tends to congregate in bunches of time, place and people; perhaps, as like attracts like, and similarities of venturesome teleologies aggregate for symbiosis of common causes, so the ugliness of humanity seems always to find its way where innocence abounds and the naive output is counterbalanced by the depravity of so many soulless zombies.

So it is in the workplace, where the ugliness of human character tends to reveal itself.  But that we wish for privacy, and for the sheer meanness of the human spirit to remain hidden.  The skin is an organ which covers, and for that we may be thankful — as the inner organs of man were never meant to be exposed for viewing where beauty is replaced with the stark reality of who we are.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who must continue to go to work despite the deteriorating and progressive presence of 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 positional duties, the persistent exposure to things which should remain hidden, often becomes a constancy of unrelenting corridors of shame.

Just as divorce merely widens the microscopic fissures of that which the child already sensed, and the secrets leading to wars were already well-known by enemies and allies alike, so the facade which allowed for amiability and camaraderie suddenly crumbles, and the ugliness of humanity exposes itself.  Why is it that of those things once hidden, they suddenly become public and unconstrained?  And in the very midst of medical conditions and human plight which should engender empathy and consolation, the increase in harassment and progressive punishment exponentially facilitates.

For the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker who finds him or herself in such a situation, filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management becomes not merely the least of options remaining, but the best alternative to a deteriorating circumstance.

And of those things which should have remained hidden?

Like vestiges of timeless reruns from an era veiled by innocence, the reels of fading images defy the reality of our day, and the best course of action is to prepare an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to OPM so that the escape hatch can invite a gust of fresh air where once the stuffiness of a stale and toxic environment was suffocating the very life out of our soulful existence.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire