FERS Disability Retirement: The Difficult Road Ahead

It is not different for much of life; it is always a “difficult road ahead”.  Whether viewed in a poetic pentameter or in long, Faulkner-like narratives, the troubles, traumas, upheavals and disappointments felt, experienced and injured by most, is simply the cost of living an ordinary life.  There may well be lives out there which are untouched by troubles or tragedies; but as every family has a closet full of skeletons, so the “perfect family” as portrayed on social media is likely a mere facade concealing secrets of unstated hurts.

If given an opportunity, what 3 wishes would be asked for to blunt the difficult road ahead?  Wealth?  Yet, having unlimited financial resources will not necessarily make you “happy”.  Fame?  Will adulation and recognition bring about lasting contentment?  How about good health?  Yes, but if everyone around you is susceptible to the scars of illness, what good would it be if you are the only one left and all of your loved ones become debilitated?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition begins to prevent you from performing one or more of the essential elements of your job, the difficult road ahead is not merely the deterioration of your health, but the long process of trying to become approved by OPM for a Federal Disability Retirement application.  Perhaps neither wealth nor fame were ever a goal for you; perhaps good health was always hoped for; but in the end, the loss of our health makes the other two rather insignificant, and the difficult road ahead magnifies even more the value of good health.

Consult with a FERS Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law and consider that the difficult road ahead may require someone who not only knows what direction to take, but which road will lead you back to fulfilling the wishes of your dreams.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Employee Disability Retirement Benefits: Succor

It is an unused word, likely because no one knows how to properly pronounce it, and even if it is pronounced properly, it would be misunderstood and thought to have either been misused or viewed as a blot against the user for attempting to insert a word in a conversation which nobody comprehends the meaning of, anyway.

It is a noun.  It is defined as providing “assistance in times of distress or hardship”, as in, “X gave succor to Y when he most needed it”, or some such similar usage and application.  Or: “The succor provided was inadequate”, or “Mary was succored by the community and greatly appreciated such kindness”.

Do words that never get used matter?  Why are there synonyms, and not just a single word describing a singular event or occurrence, and are there societies in which a 1-to-1 ratio of word-to-phenomenon is so unique as to never lack for clarity precisely because the reservation of a particular word has a singularity of meaning such that there can never be a deviation from its proper application?

Words have meanings — thus stated in the plural, we recognize that either in the subject or in the predicate, the multiplicity of applications can result in confusion.  How about the following: A single word has a particular meaning.  But that is not true; at least, not in the English language.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are undergoing hardships because of a medical condition, such that consideration must be given to filing a Federal Disability Retirement application through OPM, seek the succor of an attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law.  In other words: Look for guidance and counsel from an experienced attorney who knows the process of filing an effective OPM Disability Retirement application.

Why we need “other words” remains a mystery.

Sincerely,

Robert R.McGill, Esquire

 

Lawyer for Federal Disability Retirement claims: Fact and opinion

These days, the distinction between the two has been almost completely lost.  One must qualify such a statement with “almost”, only because there may still be minority bastions and pockets of hope still holding out that the madness prevailing will someday be overcome.

Somehow, the lines bifurcating the distinction that once were so obvious became obscured, until suddenly it was no longer a matter of just blurry lines, but the lines themselves had disappeared, and no one spoke as if there was a difference to be had.  Facts were confirmed and established “somethings” in either the objective world or of tradition-laden statements that we could all agree upon; opinions were various interpretations of those commonly-accepted facts, interspersed with the subjective content that often prefaced with, “It is my opinion that…”.

We have now discarded even the prefatory admonition, now, because it has become an unnecessary addendum; since there are no longer any facts, and everyone is privileged to hold an opinion, we go ahead and speak not facts because our opinion holds out just as well, thank you very much.

Where did it all begin?  Was it because Plato made too much about the difference between reality and appearance — so much so that he was forced to manufacture his conceptual fiction of ethereal “Forms” that itself became so problematic?  Or was it with Descartes, where certainty of one’s own existence became relegated to the subjective “I”, and so it was bound to become a muddle as more and more philosophers came to realize that, like Russell’s muse about language and the destruction of the traditional correspondence theory of truth, statements made could not so easily be identified as either fact or opinion.

It becomes much more problematic when statutory, reputation, education and logical methodology are altogether discarded and made irrelevant, and so we come back full circle in questioning ourselves, the categorizations we have imposed, and how to get beyond the conundrum of modernity’s own making.

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 job or Postal position, the question concerning “fact or opinion” is an important one, because the weaving of one into the other is queried in Standard Form 3112A, Applicant’s Statement of Disability.

How one’s answers are formulated and presented; whether they can be verified, established, “backed up with facts” as opposed to being left as mere subjective opinions — are all bundled up and contained within the questions asked, and how you will be answering them.

Fortunately, there is still remaining an approach and methodology of presenting facts as facts, and setting aside opinions and interpretations of the facts, and in 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, it is important to recognize the difference still, and be cautious in completing SF 3112A in light of modernity’s obsessional disorientation on the difference between fact and opinion.

Just the facts, as stated by my opinion.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: The buttons we believe accomplish

We believe, on faith alone, that pushing a button does the deed; and then we go on with life, and nothing really has changed but the belief in our own self-satisfaction.  It is that virtual world of computers, light switches, garage door openers and even the disc-like appendages to our shirts and sweaters that lead us to conclude that all such contraptions are of equal weight and value.

We see the cause-and-effect of the garage-door opener — of pushing a button and seeing the door slide open, then another push and it reverses course.  We push buttons on the computer keyboard, and with each tap the screen changes, or concludes with the deed completed; and of “buttons” on a shirt or sweater, we appreciate the invention that holds two sides of a separated apparel together to enclose our bodies with a warmth of a material embrace.

What does it mean to accomplish a deed with a mere pushing of a button?

We have been habituated into such thinking, and it is this disconnectedness that allows for society to continue to move “as if”.  It is only when we encounter the counter – belief that all of a sudden the world of buttons begins to sow some seeds of doubt — as when the boss comes and says, “Why haven’t you sent me X” and you respond, “I emailed it to you last week “ (it isn’t quite the same to say, “I pushed the button that accomplished the deed”).  “But I never got it” is the response which prompts you to go back and re-press the button, hoping somehow that doing so a second time will make a difference that the first time did not.

This time, however, just to be doubly sure, you go back and ask your boss whether he received it (not, again, “did my second button-pushing work?”), thus verifying the causal connection that had failed to occur previously.

What made the difference?

Somehow, in the ethereal universe of circuitry and magic we have no clues about, there exists a causal chain that “works” and “accomplishes” deeds — just like the garage-door opener that issues an immediate gratification of causation.  But that all of life would allow for such instantaneous confirmation — and of buttons we think accomplish.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition necessitates a consideration to file 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 buttons we need to push are many, varied, and long in waiting.

Whether they comprise of the metaphorical “buttons” to get people moving, or of emails that need to be sent, confirmations that require a response — what we do know, throughout, is that the reality of one’s medical condition has a discernible difference both of reality and of urgency when it comes upon the need for causation to occur.

The buttons we think accomplish remain somehow in that “other world” of magic and the unknown; the medical condition that remains is somehow the reality of the “now” that constitutes pain and suffering; and that is why preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, is of greater importance than the buttons we believe accomplish.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal & Postal Disability Retirement from OPM: Ruminations on the past

Whether one does X is often of little significance; “Why” it is done, and to what extent, is quite another matter.  The past – whether of long ago, beyond the time of memory holding presently or of history being read about, or the past of one’s own kept in sequestered moments of reflective thought and in photographs carefully guarded and encased within a protective album of shelved remembrances – is a time behind; the future, an angst-filled uncertainty few of us look forward to.

It is the present, and how we treat it, spend it, work it and waist it away or labor furiously to appear “productive” about; and then, there are ruminations on the past.

That is where the “why” and the constant obsessions begin to overwhelm – of what we could have done differently, where we “went wrong” and what lessons can be gleaned for today.  Ruminating on the past is a favorite pastime for many; but when it begins to destroy the future by robbing from the present, it is time to set aside such wasted efforts and begin to focus more upon one’s current situation in order to prepare for the future.

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 time to set aside ruminations on the past is “now”.

Preparing a Federal Disability Retirement application with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, takes up a significant amount of time, effort and required focus upon gathering the necessary information, presenting the compelling facts and establishing the legal nexus between the medical conditions and the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal position.

In doing so, ruminations on the past need to be suspended; angst-ridden obsessions about the future will need to be ignored; and only the “present” focus will become the necessary standard.  Ruminations on the past can come about sometime in the future; it is the present concern about past events that will be significant in securing one’s future by preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Employee Disability Retirement: Being too kind

Can we be so? Is there a tipping point on the pendulum of sugary personalities where the spectrum of color-coded warnings tell us to be wary, for danger lurking within a context where one becomes suspicious of a conversation turning to an overabundance of kindness? Is there such an event, a personality, a characteristic and a trait of opposition as “being too kind”? On a spectrum or scale of revealing who or what a person is – does kindness turn about into an antonym of sorts, and become naked meanness or obstructive disregard in malfeasance by neglectful ignorance?

Can parents be charged with negligence or criminal neglect because they are “too kind” to their children by allowing them to do as they please?

Can a sugary-sweet conversation engaged in with a superior turn out to be a deliberate intent to elicit responses where safeguards are lowered and one’s instinctive inner alarms of suspicion are temporarily abandoned? If a person is truly “too kind”, does being so become a detriment, or a badge of honor that allows for one to pass through life with ever a smile on one’s face? Or, behind closed doors, in the dead of night when the darkness shrouds the turmoil brewing in ones’ inner thoughts, at what price does being too kind extract, like that pound of flesh diminishing the weight of relevance for each of us in a world known to be mean and unkind?

We all accept predators and other animals of wolverine intent; and there are surely angels amongst the population who wander throughout in order to touch the hearts for the pleasure of gods in the underworld of eternity; but of those who by personality quirks or some missing link in the Darwinian universe of survival instincts, do the opposites of kindness equal the mathematical rule and create the sum of meanness, or its very opposite, of angelic qualities rarely encountered in this universe of cynicism?

Then, of course, there is the dismissive wave of the hand of which no one wants to fall within that category: “Oh, he’s a nice enough guy” – a declarative which, when properly interpreted, means: “Irrelevant; not worth spending more than a few seconds with”. For, being too kind has two faces to it: Whether of a perennially naïve character, such that the person with that eccentricity can be trampled upon and yet remain so; or, there is an underlying and often malicious intent beneath the veneer of such kindness.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are considering filing a Federal Disability Retirement application, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, remember that there is always a history of repeated conduct by Federal Agencies and Postal Facilities, which should forewarn you about a person, an agency, a department of a facility, that suddenly is being too kind.

For, always remember the childhood fable about Grimm’s or Perrault’s eternal truth, as depicted by Little Red Riding Hood; and, depending upon the version written, you may not want to get into that bed with a grandmother who has a long and suspicious-looking nose, as well as other telling features that should ring the alarm.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire