FERS Medical Retirement for Mental or Physical Incapacity: Life’s Mess

When guests come over (whenever that will be again under this Pandemic), we close the door to “that” room; the closets are good to hide it; the basement, the garage, the attic — all are considered fair play as “storage areas” to hide the messes we all have.

Then, there is life’s mess — you know, those categories of living which cannot be neatly arranged, stuffed away, hidden aside or trained to behave.  Perhaps it is one’s spouse or child; taxes; parents; resentments yet remaining with one’s childhood; a trauma experienced; or a medical condition suffered.

It is that part of one’s life which simply cannot be a part of the main or central theme of one’s life.  And so we stuff it into a metaphorical closet, close the analogical door or box it up into a mental category with a tag of, “Not going to deal with it right now”.

Yet, somehow, the door to that room blows open suddenly; the closet is peeked into by a nosy neighbor; the attic becomes infested with rats and so we are forced to clean it up; the basement becomes flooded and we suddenly have to “deal” with it; or the garage becomes so stuffed with the messes of life that we can no longer ignore it.

Life’s messes are ultimately unavoidable — precisely because, no matter how much we want to compartmentalize life’s mess, it is, after all, part of one’s life.

So are medical conditions.  As such, for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that, as a part of one’s total life, it is that “messy” part which one wants to hide away, Federal Disability Retirement is the option to clean up life’s mess.

Contact an attorney who specializes in OPM Disability Retirement Law and begin the process of cleaning out the closet which constitutes life’s mess.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Medical Disability Retirement: The Swing of Things

How do you explain such an idiom to a foreigner?  How do you explain it to yourself, or to a friend or family member?

It is a phrase which is often used, rarely considered, and never questioned.  We say such things without thought and, if it fits the context, no one ever pauses or stops to question its applicability.

The Holidays are over; people have been on a somewhat extended break; and in returning to work, someone says, “It’ll take some time to get back into the swing of things”.  Others smile, nod in agreement, or utter supportive addendums.

Someone comes back from maternity leave; an elder person enters as a Freshman/Woman in college; a young novice begins a job; to all, someone declares, “It may take some time to get into the swing of things.”  All appropriate applications?

A person has been working at a job for over 2 decades.  Someone says audibly in the middle of the day, “It takes time to get into the swing of things.”  People look up quizzically.  An inappropriate application?  But why?

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 job, is the idiom, “It is difficult to get back into the swing of things” appropriate?

If not — both because there are no potentialities for ever “getting back” what has been lost, and because the medical condition has gone beyond the ‘difficult’ and into the ‘disabling’ stage — it is time to consult with an OPM Disability Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement.

The “swing of things” must now be something different from your current Federal or Postal job.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Employee Medical Retirement: Stating the Obvious

Sometimes, it is necessary; at others, to do so appears inane and redundant; and yet, to state the obvious is often as important as not, and someone has to do it, lest the obvious become the proverbial elephant in the room which is too easily avoided and becomes too difficult to maneuver around.

The boy who cried wolf once too often stated the obvious, but in the end it wasn’t enough to alarm the townspeople because no one believed the obvious; and for the emperor who wore no clothes, the obvious had to be pointed out by a child who didn’t know any better, to a populace that should have known better.  Or how about Little Red Riding Hood — shouldn’t she have known the obvious?  Or does innocence bypass the excuse of ignorance such that we can overlook the faults of youth?

As it turns out, the obvious often does need to be stated, if only to remind us that the world of illusions we have created for ourselves cannot withstand the harsh reality of the universe within which we must survive.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition no longer allows us to continue in our current Federal or Postal jobs, perhaps it has become abundantly obvious that Federal Disability Retirement must by necessity be the next step to undertake.  It is obvious.  It has been obvious for some time.  Yet, it takes you to state the obvious, even though your spouse, your coworkers, and even your own treating doctor have been telling you that for some time, now.

Consult with a FERS Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law, lest you need the obvious to be stated once again: You need to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits — now.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

Lawyer Representation for OPM Disability Claims: The charade

We have all enjoyed playing the game – of the silent act in order for our team to come up with the name of the book, a famous saying, identification of a country or place; and with some inebriation as a helpful assistant to even greater pathways of outrageous laughter, the game is enjoyed in homes and neighborhoods when gatherings aggregate in times of holidays or special occasions.

It is the silent opera for the actor; the guessing laughter and thoughtful pose for the other members of one’s team.  How did that game come about?  Is it because games reflect a reality of a slice of life?  It reminds one of the “perfect lie” – you know, the one that always retains a kernel of truth, and thus is believable.

The imperfect lie is the one that is made up out of whole cloth – the one’s that a kid who is not yet a master of the believable lie tells to the parents, thinking that a make-believe world is distinguishable from the objective universe of reality, but that you can simply insert an imaginary event into the day-to-day workings of this parallel universe.

No, the perfect lie is like the charade of life – it is acting, but always retaining and containing a slice of reality and truth.  And of other games – of monopoly, cross-word puzzles, trivial pursuit, etc.; are they merely distractions to escape the harshness of life, or do they contain a sufficient amount of that slice to make it all the more interesting?

And of the charade of life – to what extent do we engage it daily, and if someone catches you in the act, can you simply respond with, “Well, I will just playing charades with you all.”  To which the audience (or the police) might say, “But no one else was playing, and you have no team.”  To which the Shakespearean actor would say, “Ah, but all the world is a stage!”

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to prevent one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, it often seems like you have been playing at the game of charades for quite some time.  The only problem is, your own “team members” haven’t been trying to guess at what is wrong, but rather, have been trying to ignore or otherwise act as if they don’t know.  Or, perhaps you, too, have been trying to hide the medical condition, in somewhat of a “reverse charades play”.

But the time ultimately comes, where you have to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether you are under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.  At that point, the game of charades is over – for you have been finally realized and recognized as “the man who is filing for Federal Disability Retirement” and the Federal or Postal employee who suffers from a medical condition.

Yes, real life is a reflection of the games we play, and charades is truly a mirror of who we are.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Legal Representation on Federal Disability Retirement Claims: The smile

Some say that dogs don’t do it, but dog-lovers know better.  Cats certainly do, but with a slyness that betrays sincerity; and chimpanzees, hippopotamuses and elephants.  Birds cannot because of the rigidity of their beaks; and squirrels, certainly, with their flitting movements as they run joyfully across lawns and up treetops where nuts galore await their anticipation of delight.  But of human beings; we all engage it, but whether with sincerity or to conceal, that is always a question that needs pondering.

The eyes often tell all; as Plato and others have described it in metaphorical terms, the window to one’s soul; and so one may walk about and force upon the watching world the curl around one’s lips, but the vacant stares or the look of pain, the distant eyes that betray the insincerity of the smile will often manifest the anomaly of what the expression means.

Only human beings can portray the opposite of that which is natural.  For, with animals (and yes, that includes dogs, as well, despite what the so-called “experts” say) the smile is just that – an expression of the facial features that impresses upon the world that happiness, contentment and a tummy rub (i.e., for dogs) produces the effect that naturally comes about – the smile.

For humans, however, it may be to conceal; of the smile that says to the world, yes, I am happy by all appearances, so leave me alone and allow me to wallow in my own secretive misery.  Or, the expression on the face that curls the lips just before the smiling face stabs one in the back.  Or, in a group of people where everyone is talking and smiling, you spot across the room the person who is also smiling, but still you wonder, for the eyes don’t quite match the curling expression.

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 worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal job and position, the smile that conceals is often the one that is worn day in and day out – to conceal the pain, to hide the truth, to cover the anguish.

One cannot be genuine and continue on in life if the inner turmoil does not match the outer reality of life’s living.  It may be time to prepare an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, if only to have the smile on one’s face return where the genuineness of the expression matches the reality of one’s situation.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Postal & Federal Medical Retirement: Imperfect lives

Is it a characteristic trait that must even be pointed out?  How, to begin with, did we even come to possess the antonym of that concept?  Of course, that is partly the residual argument made by medieval theologians as to further evidence of the existence of God – that in order to have come to possess the concept of “perfection”, there must by logical necessity exist a being of the sort such that we can even comprehend such an idea.

Thus may the converse of that argument be made:  that in recognizing our own imperfect lives, we must have recognized perfection as a contrast to our own state of existence; ergo, a perfect Being must exist.

Of course, there are fallacies to be pointed out in such argumentation (to which the ancients would immediately posit that there are perfect logical explanations, otherwise we would be unable to recognize the imperfect fallacies contained therein – and ad infinitum, ad nauseum), but in the end, what comes out is that there is no questioning a basic fact:  We all live imperfect lives.  That, in and of itself, is not the interesting part of the equation, however.

What is astounding is that, despite the recognition that we all live imperfect lives, extrapolated from the realization that it is impossible to live a perfect life, we nevertheless attempt to portray to others, and the world over, that it is simply not the case that we live an imperfect life, but that we come as close to perfection as possible, and it is only every other schmuck that lives an imperfect life, even though we all know that the other schmuck knows that we, too, live imperfect lives.

What evidence is there of that assertion?  Look at how people act on Facebook, Instagram, any and all magazines that contained the air-brushed images of pictorial perfection – we all fear to reveal the ugly underbelly of reality, and attempt instead to show how near-to-perfection we live.  Or, the secondary argument goes, if we don’t live perfect lives, we come as close to humanly possible.

And if that one doesn’t quite convince, then the use of a rhetorical device:  Well, what choice do we have, in the end?  That’s the point; in the end, the living of an imperfect life is greater evidence that such a characteristic is not necessarily any fault attributable; it is just the natural state of a decomposing body, a deteriorating mind, of organic matter that is exposed to the influences of the world around.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who realize that a medical condition is preventing the Federal employee or Postal worker from performing all of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the recognition that we all live imperfect lives is an important one.  For, what often prevents the Federal or Postal employee from initiating the necessary steps to secure a Federal Disability Retirement benefit is the fear that others may “think” that to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, first through your own Human Resource Department, then on to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, may reveal the underlying imperfection of your life.

Don’t worry about it; if you haven’t figured it out, the “others” who may think that you are imperfect for doing what needs to be done, are imperfect as well.  Really?

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement Benefits: The legacy

It is something that we leave behind.  Yet, unlike a wallet, a watch, a piece of jewelry or a troublesome child better left forgotten, we don’t have an opportunity to go back and get it.  We say of that laundry list, “Oh, I need to go back and get it” (except maybe of the last in the list, whom we hope will be adopted into a kindly family and simultaneously also leave the parents behind); but not of the legacy.

No one ever says of that, “Oh, I left my legacy behind, and I need to go back and get it.”  Instead, it is intimately bound up with mortality, our sense of the future minus our own presence, and a dominant desire and urge to “leave a legacy” behind, as if to do otherwise will diminish the memory of one who has now departed, will soon be forgotten and will populate the mass of unknown graves without tombstones littering the earth beneath ivy and weeds that overwhelm.

It is often money itself, which is soon spent and forgotten; or a special “something” that one remembers another by, which is placed in a drawer and also quickly, easily and without conscience soon forgotten; or, perhaps a more lasting imprint of some residual effect – a poem, an antique car (otherwise referred to as a “junk heap”), or the family farm.

Whatever the legacy left leaving lasting latitudes of lost loneliness lacking love’s longing for lengthy locutions (sorry for the alliteration, but it cannot be helped), it is something that is left behind, cannot ever be retrieved, and may or may not have a lasting impact upon the person or groups of people for whom it is intended.

Then, one can stretch the meaning to include a more modern interpretation of the concept of a legacy – of one’s own.  That is a paradigm of a “legacy” in the more common usage – of a memory of one’s life, of what kind of a legacy will one leave that will be remembers by others – that you worked yourself to death and didn’t spend the time with your kids (refer to the above, first sentence herein, where that may be a blessing), your wife or friends?  What is the point of an empty legacy of that sort?

For the Federal employee and U.S. Postal worker who begins to think of one’s life, health, future and legacy, especially because a medical condition has begun to impact one’s ability and capacity to continue in the Federal or Postal career of one’s choice, the consideration of preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is often and intimately tied and bound to the fragile nature of a medical condition and its impact upon one’s life.

Struggling daily with a medical condition while trying to contend with a contentious Federal Agency or Postal Facility is not only “not fun” – it is, moreover, a futile exercise that diminishes the legacy of one’s life as a greater whole.

The “legacy” one leaves behind, indeed, is not like a wallet, a watch, or a piece of jewelry; but it is like a child left behind, where regrets for the future may yet be corrected, and for the Federal or Postal employee who needs to focus upon one’s health and future orientation that can no longer include the current job one occupies, preparation of an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to OPM, may be the next best thing to a legacy yet to be considered.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: The Crumbling Walls of Professional Conduct

The aged bemoan of modernity; youth view the present as merely fodder for change and future potential; and caught in between, somewhere in the netherworld of inertia, those inconsequential individuals relegated to the irrelevant category of “middle age”, who must stand by and witness the slow and progressive destruction of the past, the deterioration of cohesiveness of the future, and the present infirmity of impotence.

Medical conditions are funny animals; because they are personal in nature, the revelation of such private matters tends to scare people, because the emergence of such confidential conveyance violates the unspoken walls of professional distance; but for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to impact the performance of one or more of the essential elements of one’s positional duties in the Federal sector or the U.S. Postal Service, it is often necessary to provide some component of one’s medical condition in order to ascertain and establish the extent of needed accommodations — for purposes of filing for FMLA, to take needed SL or LWOP, or to counter allegations of misconduct or violation of “leave policy”, etc.

Within the greater context of life, there is a sense there the walls of professional conduct which once protected privacy concerns and acceptable behaviors, are crumbling in modernity.  Anything and everything goes; there is no normative constraint, anymore, because the demarcation between private and professional have disappeared.

The same is true when applied to the administrative process of filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

The entire bureaucratic process engenders privacy concerns because of the sensitive nature of the information which must be submitted.  But those are merely “side issues” which should be placed in their proper perspective; for, in the end, when the final wave of goodbye is motioned, and one has obtained an approval from OPM in order to exit with a Federal Disability Retirement annuity, the crumbling walls of professional conduct as revealed by one’s agency or the U.S. Postal Service will be but a far echo of past misdeeds, as one walks out into the future of a brighter tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: The Wake-up Call

It can be requested pursuant to a prior arrangement or, with today’s technology, prewired on one’s own electronic device.  Time was when there existed an employed switchboard operator sitting in front of a pock-marked surface deftly inserting plugs of a dozen or more connections simultaneously, like an octopus whose coordinated extremities swirl about under and over with cross-purposed entanglements, pulling and inserting, with headphones half dangling, calmly stating, “This is your wakeup call.  Have a good morning!”

Then, of course, there is the other, more unwelcome meaning, of a negative connotation concerning an event or occurrence which portends of that which one may have always known, but only now realizes because of the impending doom.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers, it may be the chronicity of the medical condition; or, the increasing outside pressures continuing to pile on, of leave-usage restrictions, suspension letters, placing you on a PIP, or the ultimate proposal of removal.

Whatever the proverbial wake-up call, it is time to prepare, formulate and file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether one is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.   The call itself is merely the beginning of the process; there is the entirety and complexity to undergo, including the gathering of the compendium of medical documentation, the formulation of one’s Statement of Disability and the coordinating of all of the elements of the case, and then the submission and waiting.

The bureaucratic and administrative components of the process can sometimes appear to be archaic and somewhat anachronistic; but like the switchboard operator of yesteryear, the necessity of the service is never in doubt; it is merely the apparatus of change which remains relevant, and properly, and effectively preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits is a mandate of action compelled by the wakeup call entitled “Life and the inevitability of change“.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire
Federal Disability Retirement Lawyer

 

OPM Disability Retirement: The Chasm Between the “Process” and the End-Product

One is often forewarned that, if you want to continue retaining certain foods and delectable delights of culinary desires, you should refrain from taking a tour of the manner, means and methodology of manufacturing the medium of modality.

The “process” of attaining a final product is, in many instances, quite different from the “end product” displayed and delivered for public viewing.  The latter constitutes all of the hard work, effort and refinements contained beneath and within the invisible undercoating which comprises the historical context of unspoken deeds; while the former is comprised of the aggregate of that which has been censored for public viewing.

In law, one reads about the final outcome — the verdict; the monetary sum awarded; the opinion of the Court; the statement of triumph by the prosecutor, defense attorney or the plaintiff’s advocate.  The process to get there — the preparation, the missteps, the unexpected statement by a witness previously vetted and sifted through multiple and complex layers of questioning and examination; these constitute the ugly foray of felonious intent.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are considering 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 issue is rarely the “end-product” (Federal Disability Retirement benefits) — although, because of the reduction in income/annuity, and the change of circumstances from “employed” to “retired” constituting a radical change in life and perspective, that, too, can be a scary thought — but rather, the “process” of getting there.

But a traditional “cost/benefits” analysis normally results in affirmatively comprehending the singular issue of importance, significance and relevance in the necessity of filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits from OPM:  The medical condition itself is the driving force, and the mandate of compelling action.

In the end, the ugliness of the process itself must be ignored:  the admission to the agency, coworkers, supervisors, managers, etc., of the proverbial throwing in the towel or raising of the white flag; the ostracizing response by the agency (but isn’t that just a confirmation and affirmation of what has been going on for the past year or so, anyway?); the long wait; the encounter with the bureaucratic process (but again, isn’t that something one has already “been there, done that” by virtue of working for the Federal Government or the U.S. Postal Service these many years, anyway?).

The “process” of getting from Point A to Point B is a long and hard one, and no one can deny that the journey itself is but an unpleasant pathway of necessity; but that is why we have pithy proverbs to provide portentous pretentiousness:  There is “light at the end of the tunnel“; “Another day, another dollar”; “Youth is wasted on the young”; and the one most relevant as the Federal and Postal worker awaiting a decision from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management:  “Patience is a virtue“.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire