Federal Employees Retirement System (FERS) Disability Retirement: The Vanishing Point

If you are old enough, you know the reference to the 1971 “cult” movie.  It had a strange ending, and allowed for lengthy discussions which meandered into the apparent profundity of pure pablum.  In the end, it was just a “fun” movie.

In reality, the vanishing point occurs daily.  As one grows older, you come across people you once knew but who have “passed on”.  We antiseptically and euphemistically apply the careful language of avoidance, but the blunt truth is that people die or move out of our frame of reference every day.

The vanishing point includes many aspects of one’s daily life: The family dog that dies; the elderly parents who pass on; the coworker who suddenly quits and is never heard from again; the guy across the office who becomes hospitalized and never comes back, etc.

It is the “etc.” which is the reality of life — we all move on; it’s always the other person who is somehow left behind.  That was another one of those movies, wasn’t it?  “Left Behind” — a movie and series about the biblical concept of the apocalypse and people being left behind.  The fact is, the “vanishing point” begins long before a person is left behind; we just don’t know the private struggles which are being faced throughout.

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 “vanishing point” has already begun.  It began with the medical condition.

Contact a FERS Disability Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement, and begin the process of validating the vanishing point from your job by initiating the administrative process of filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application under FERS with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Lawyer
Postal & Federal Employee Retirement Attorney

 

FERS Medical Retirement: The Dystopian Perspective

Books from all ages depict such a view: The classic one, of course, is Orwell’s 1984; or of Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451; but more recently, of Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, and even more recently of Ogawa’s, The Memory Police. They all possess a thread of commonality: Of a society both frightening and oppressive, based upon human fears and the insecurity wrought by where we are going, the trends of modernity which succumb to believability, and the suspicion that such dystopian consequences are actually possible.

Orwell was wrong, of course — Big Brother did not have to forcibly place tele-screens into people’s homes; instead, each of us volunteered to go out and purchase such spying screens, and with our own hard-earned money in the form of Smartphones, televisions and laptops.  And while no one comes and burns our books, we have effectively accomplished such a misdeed by slowly and incrementally converting them all into digital devices, thus ensuring that we won’t actually know whether the published content of a book is what was originally intended; for, he who controls the digital device has ultimate control over its content, whereas a book published in its original form cannot be altered except by forcible means.

As for Atwood’s theme and Ogawa’s portrayal of the world — they deal with the two aspects of a life in a frightening way: Of the subjugation of the body (The Handmaid’s Tale) and of controlling the mind (The Memory Police).  All are fictional works; yet, somehow we can “relate” to the stories being told. How is that? Is it because we have a dystopian perspective already prepared within us by society’s callous conduct?

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 his or her Federal or Postal job, the Dystopian Perspective is a very familiar one.  For, being ostracized; being condemned; being harassed and being subjected to unfair treatment — it all comes in a bundle once you can no longer “perform” at the level expected by the Federal Agency or the Postal Service.

When that Dystopian Perspective becomes unbearable, then it is time to consider preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.  And, while the Dystopian Perspective may not turn into an Utopian Reality, it is far better than the subjugation of the human mind and body that gets increasingly worse under Big Brother’s eye.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement under FERS: In the end…

What is it about a phrase that predictably tells us about the mood, content or direction of the mindset?  If a person begins with, “Well, it all began when…” — we will often stifle a yawn, try to make excuses and begin heading for the exits.  Self-aggrandizing, prefatory remarks that set the stage for a narrative delineation that includes private details of individual lives often bore the pants off of most people, and yet many will “tell all”, as if such intimate details trigger a prurient interest within each of us.

Then, of course, there is the opposite, as in: “In the end…”.  What fills in the ellipses?  In the end…the world will all go to the trash bin of history’s footnotes; In the end…we all die, anyway?  Such opening phrases and closing remarks leave out the vast chasm of filling in “the middle”, of course.  How does a story begin, tell the narrative in an interesting manner in “the middle” and end with a bang?  That is the problem, isn’t it?  Most of us don’t have a clue as to how to tell an interesting tale.

And what about non-fiction — of a historical narrative or of a biography?  What makes for an interesting “telling” of it — of what details of a person’s life; what incidents should be included?  What peripheral, tangential details will make for an interesting and engaging read?  Is a biography incomplete if the author leaves out certain details, or does it matter?  What “events” are presumed and should therefore be excluded, and can it really be said that certain excluded moments are considered to be excluded at all?

For example, it is presumed that a person goes to the bathroom a few times a day, at least — but what if, during the narrative of a biography or a historical period, such activities are never mentioned?  Can we call up the author and demand to know why such historical “facts” were excluded from the biography of, say, an important figure?

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, it may be necessary to begin to formulate 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.

As part of that “administrative process”, it is necessary to complete SF 3112A, Applicant’s Statement of Disability.

In preparing the narrative story of one’s medical condition, it is important to convey the essential “story” — a historical account; a prefatory introduction; a “middle”; and an “In the end…”.

What details to include; the choice of words; whether in the first-person or 3rd-person narrative; of what legal arguments to include; whether to “exclude” certain details without being charged with “falsifying” a claim, etc. — these are all important considerations in the proper, complete and sufficient preparation, formulation and filing of an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, and it is vitally important to do it “the right way” when preparing SF 3112A — the core and essence of a FERS Disability Retirement claim — which, in the end, is the story of your tale that needs to be told.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

Attorney Representation Federal Disability Retirement: The running of days

How does it happen?  Where did it all go?

One day, you are a young man or woman, full of promises and hopes, dreams that defy any limitation or restriction of potentiality yet to be unleashed; and the next, an old man or woman, rocking back and forth, awaiting the grim reaper with its scythe and faceless chasm of darkness and despair.  In between, of course, there is a memory – of a blur, a constant rush from this activity to that, of emergencies, turmoil and tumults, of the proverbial peaks and valleys; in short, it is called “living life”.

It is the running of days, one upon the other, one mixed into the two, then weeks, months and years, and finally decades that turn into a half-century.  Was it all worth it?  Did we stop and perform that salient act that became so popular during the 60s – of stopping to “smell the roses”?  And if we did not, what wisdom was gleaned from the lack thereof, the absence of pause, the semicolon of interludes?

Or, did we follow upon the admonishment stated in that 1974 folk song by Harry Chapin, “Cat’s in the Cradle”, where all we did was to teach our kids to be “just like me” and roam the universe in search of meaningless trope and allowing for the running of days to overtake us?

Or is it simply that our memories fail to serve us, and there were many days and some months where enjoyment, relationships and meaningful engagements were in fact embraced, but that the living of life often erases, smears and obscures such that our recollection is so cluttered with valuable connections and so consumed with overflowing “moments” that we just cannot even contain them anymore?

The running of days is ultimately just a metaphor, like running water and leaks that just keep on; but it is one that sometimes needs fixing, and it is the repair work that often cannot be performed within a lifetime of such disrepair.  Regrets hit us all, but the greatest one that never seems to close the wounds of time is that one where time was wasted upon frivolous acts of unrepentant entanglements.

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, the other proverbial saying is that one which refers to “spinning one’s wheels”, and yet knowing that no good will come out of staying put.

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 be the only solution left to a career that has come to a standstill.

Medical conditions tend to trigger a running of days – where the chronic pain or the illness extended seems to make no difference or distinction whether it’s a weekday or a weekend, and the only way out of such a mirage of misgivings is to “move on”; and as filing an OPM Disability Retirement is often the best and only option that can accomplish that, given the timeframe that it now takes to get an approval at any stage of the bureaucratic process, it is probably a good idea to file sooner than later in order to get ahead of the running of days.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS & CSRS Disability Retirement: The Hangman’s Knot

The perfect knot is the most effective, and development of its features occurred over time through a science of art and an artistic employment of science.  The placement of the knot behind which ear; the number of coils before they became an impediment; and the avoidance, at all costs, of trespassing upon superstitious beliefs and potentially supernatural reverberations — these were all taken into account in perfecting the science of the art.

Its corollary, the art of the science, disregarded the efficacy of the knot; it was only the former which concerned itself with an objective evaluation of the results after each occurrence.  Like parachuters who pack and fold their own devices with a systematic routine of sprinkled superstitions, the hangman would often approach his craft with a religiosity and fervency of monotony such that any detour from the iconoclasm of repetition could delay or abandon the anointed time of impending doom.

In modernity, of course, any discussion concerning the hangman’s noose turned into a historicity of adages and proverbial wisdom; we construct our own knots, like the beds we make in which we must sleep, and the messes we create which we direct our children to clean up.

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 positional duties, the issue of when to file, how to file, the whys and whereabouts must always be taken into account; and like the hangman’s noose which is coiled slowly and deliberately, the Federal or Postal worker who prepares for the inevitably end must take care in the preparation and application for submission and filing.

It is, in the end, only the superficial features of the world which change; the essence of everything substantive remains constant, and that is precisely the point of Plato, Aristotle and the entire linear heritage of Western Philosophy — that the underlying meaningfulness of the world around us is that which is captured in truth.  And, like the hangman’s knot, what we do in preparing for the event of a lifetime is just as important as the incident itself, and that is why preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management is essential to securing a future of stability and security, where the process is just as crucial as the substance underlying.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS & CSRS Federal Disability Retirement from the Office of Personnel Management: The Insular Universe

The self-containment of society has reached a point of no return; when the universe of virtual reality becomes the focus of dominant conversation, where movies depicting historical events replace the factual narrative of serious discourse; of twitter terminals constituting serious haikus of accepted profundities; the age of human innovation and creative destiny has indeed come to an end.

So where does empathy fit into the maze of humanity?  For a bureaucracy, processing paperwork and finishing tasks satisfies the requirement of emotional output designated for responsiveness.

For the individual awaiting a decision on one’s application for Federal Disability Retirement benefits from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal employee or the U.S. Postal worker is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the dealings with “life issues” are comprised of:  first and foremost, attending to the medical condition; second or third, the increasing vitriol of the Federal agency, its agents and assigns, or the U.S. Postal Service through its supervisors, managers and other thoughtless coworkers who engage in various forms of harassment and pushing of pressure points; and further down the sequential order of priorities, waiting upon the administrative process of filing for, and anticipating, a decision from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

In a universe where reality and virtual reality no longer have a distinctive bifurcation of differentiating margins, the qualitative conditioning of terminating that video drone is of no greater consequence than denying an application for Federal Disability Retirement benefits.

The key, then, is how best to awaken the sleepy eyes of the Administrative Specialist at OPM?  In real life, medical conditions have a traumatic impact upon life’s otherwise uneventful discourses.

How to convey that narrative to a bureaucracy and administrative process is the question of paramount importance.  How to shake up the slumbering mind overtaken with years of callous disregard, and pull from the insular universe of self-containment the reality of one’s condition, depends upon the medical documentation, the statement of disability, and the legal argumentation propounded in a compendium of discourse which will touch the soul.  That is the ultimate art of legal training.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire