Lawyer Representation for OPM Disability Claims: The price paid

That is the question, isn’t it?  In this monetary-based system of thought, we always ask that one, and the follow-up:  What was the price paid, and was it worth it? Are the two questions and issues divisible, or are they inseparably linked like Siamese twins sharing a vital organ?

As to the first, the question can encompass an entanglement of intricate complexities that flow from the second — when, in fact, it is a simple question requiring merely a fundamental answer.  We ask first, What is the price paid?

We begin to hem and haw and hesitate:  Well, it was really beautiful and I’ve always wanted it and it was worth it because it brought back the warmth of childhood memories and….  Once such explanations and justifying delineations occur, you have conflated the second issue into the first; for, the first requires a simple and straightforward answer:  the dollar-amount; a monetarily-objective response; a unit from a designated numerical set, etc.  Thus: “I bought X”.  “How much did you pay for it?”  “It was priced at X-dollars, and I purchased it for Y-amount”.

Then, the inevitable follow-up:  “Was it worth it?”  It is this second question that evokes a conflation with the first; for, such a query is not so simple inasmuch as it involves psychology, emotion, rational and irrational underpinnings, and the subjective encompassment of often-unexplainable attachments.

The worth of a thing may not parallel the price of it; for, what what paid for it can spread throughout a spectrum of differentiating circumstances:  Perhaps one got a bargain; maybe the seller didn’t realize the true market value and vastly underpriced it; or, it may be that a person needed to do a “quick sale” because he needed the cash, and was willing to part with it at a basement-bargain price, etc.

Take the following hypothetical:  At an auction, a painting is bid upon.  It is a rather unassuming piece that depicts a woman, fully clothed, with a slight smile.  It is not an exceptional painting, and is expected to be auctioned off for about a thousand dollars.  The bidding begins, and very quickly, it becomes clear that primarily 2 individuals are vying for the painting — one, a very wealthy individual; the other, a middle-class bloke barely able to meet his monthly debts.  The bidding exceeds the expected price to be gained by the auctioneer, which makes him happy beyond description.

This is the cake that dreams are made of for the auction house that expects very little:  Two or more individuals who are willing to pay a price exceeding the monetary worth of the item.  After a series of back-and-forth bids, the middle-class bloke wins the bid — at $20,000.00.  When later asked about it, he replies: “The painting reminds me of my mother.”  Bankrupt and considered a fool by everyone in the neighborhood, he nevertheless feels for the rest of his life that it “was worth it”.

Now, turn the hypothetical around and let’s say that the wealthy man won the bidding.  When asked about it, he simply stated: “Oh, I was just bored.  I plan on trashing the painting when I get home, but it was exciting to just rob someone else of his desire and pleasure.”  In either case, was the price paid “worth” it?

That is the question that Federal and Postal workers have to answer when determining whether or not to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset — the price of one’s health; whether it is worth continuing in a job or career that persists upon a track to demoralize, deteriorate and destroy one’s health; or, whether a reduced income at the price of being able to focus upon one’s health may be “worth” it.

Preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM itself has a price — of the long wait, the complex administrative process and the stress of waiting; but like the painting being bid upon at the auction house, it is always the balancing of the price paid and the worth of the gain that must be considered when preparing, formulating and filing for OPM Disability Retirement benefits.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement Representation: Hope of escape

Perhaps it is a weekly lottery ticket purchases; or the novel that is periodically worked on but never gets completed; or even a notion that there is a distant relative who will one day meet mortality and leave a legacy of a magnitude beyond the capacity to exhaust; but of whatever dreams, fantasies or mathematical improbabilities, the mere hope of escape is often the fingernail that allows for sanity to remain, for motivation to continue to abide, and of a spark of incentive to spur onward and forward.

It is only when the cornered animal is left with no route of escape, or when an enemy battalion can neither hope to survive nor be allowed to surrender, that an unimaginable end may be considered.

Hope is the flame that abides for humanity’s safeguarding of happiness; of escape, it is something we all do, and often to the detriment of relationships that we have.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from various medical conditions, such that those medical conditions continue to prevent or otherwise impede the Federal or Postal employee’s ability, capacity and resolve to perform all of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the hope is always there that the medical condition will resolve itself, or that the doctors will come up with a new cure, or perhaps even that a miracle will occur that tonight’s dream will awaken to a pain-free tomorrow.

Short of that, however, the hope of escape means that the medical condition will continue, but the inability to perform one or more of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal job must be discontinued either through (a) resolution of the medical condition (unlikely), (b) accommodation by the Federal Agency or the Postal Service of the medical condition such that the Federal or Postal employee may continue to work (again, unlikely), (c) resignation or termination because of excessive use of leave, inability to maintain a regular work schedule, deterioration of the medical condition or being placed on a PIP (likely), or (d) file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset (inevitably).

The hope of escape still abides; it is up to the Federal or Postal employee to initiate the hope by consulting with an attorney who specializes in preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, thus empowering a potential escape from the vicious cycle of work-related harassment, deterioration of one’s health, and the constant concern for the security of one’s future.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: Mood, weather, medical conditions

The Age of Science is upon us.  No longer do we believe that the moon is a god in the orb of heavenly spheres; that incantations will solve problems of health or bad vibes; and one’s mood is not a matter of environment or upbringing, but can be resolved with a pill or an electric shock wave.

The weather is confined to discussions about carbon emissions and global warming by man-made intransigence, and never about gods controlling the destiny of ill-temper because they became angry with an individual; and medical conditions cannot be exorcised by mere religious fervor, anymore, and to do so when a child is involved may end one up in jail for abuse and neglect.  One’s mood can still be influenced by one’s upbringing; the weather can sometimes impact moods, dog’s howling and animals acting skittishly; and medical conditions – well, they have became the sole province of science.

There is no room left for hobbits, goblins or fairytales left to the imagination; perhaps that is what is deemed “progress” and the expunging of antiquated horrors.  One need only to review the medical procedures of yesteryear to thank whoever for the advances made in modernity – of painful procedures and implements now banished; of even simple theories that used “blood-letting” in order to balance the humors that went out of kilter.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who – regardless of what “science” says about mood, weather and medical conditions – have been impacted by all three: one’s mood still seems impacted by the weather on various days; and the weather seems to exacerbate medical conditions, whether psychological or physical; and in a cycle of effects, the medical conditions seem to impact upon one’s moods, it never seems to be the whole solution that the surgical knife or the doctor’s pill resolves everything.  Somehow, there always is a suspicion that there is “more to it”.

Looking at filing a Federal Disability Retirement is somewhat like the interaction between mood, weather and medical conditions; it is not the “only” or even the “ultimate” solution to life’s problems, but is merely a vehicle and component in a complex set of life’s “issues” that may need to be accessed.  In order to do that, it is necessary to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, and it may well be that such a filing is ultimately impacted or influenced by one’s mood, the weather and certainly the extent of one’s medical condition and one’s inability to perform all of the essential elements of one’s job. Go figure.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Medical Retirement under FERS & CSRS: Admission

It is a noun of peculiar variability, perhaps all interconnected upon reflection.  It can refer to the permission to enter, whether by right, payment or removal of obstacles; or, denoting the price of such entrance; or even yet, a confession or acknowledgment of a point taken; and in other contexts, of being accepted into a fraternity of sorts, as in “admission to a university” or “to the legal bar” – meaning, not an actual, physical movement through gates now open, but a conceptual membership into a community of selective individuals.

Is there a linguistic relationship between that sequestered sense of the word – of an acknowledgment or confession – in contradistinction to the other forms, all of the remainder of which encompasses an entrance, movement or acceptance to a desired destination upon the removal of an obstruction, whether by a physical gate or a nod of consent?

How about this:  An admission denoting a confessional standard or conceding a point of conflict can be likened as a release, where pent-up resistance is suddenly or finally torn down, and the voluntary pouring out of one’s previously-withheld desire to “tell all” has been replaced with the emptying sensation of a satisfied conscience.  You are now allowed into the community of guiltless souls, or at least of having the feeling of being released from the cage of deception in falsehood.

Admission in this sense is a freeing of one’s inner soul, and it is normally insufficient to bring that narrative of expiation in a silent soliloquy to one’s self; thus, there are confessionals and penitent individuals, bowing with genuflective subservience and unmasking one’s soul to someone cloaked in authoritative garments, and somehow the externalization of one’s guilty conscience has an antiseptic, cleansing effect.

Admission into a fraternity of brotherhood is always a welcoming act; admission of one’s mistakes, wrongs committed and sins adorned, has never been an easy undertaking, and less so in this day and age where moral equivalency is the prevailing rule of life.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are considering filing a Federal Disability Retirement application through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the issue of admission is always twofold:  First, the entire purpose of preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application is to gain admission into the class of former Federal and Postal employees who are now Federal Disability Retirement annuitants; and, secondly, it is important to allow for the difficult admission that the entire administrative and bureaucratic process is a complicated one, and therefore may require the assistance of legal counsel in order to successfully maneuver one’s way through the maze of complexities.

An admission in the first sense is thus the goal; an admission in the latter sense is merely a reflection of wisdom in progress for the Federal or Postal employee who, by necessity of a medical condition, needs to file a Federal Disability Retirement application with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: The pendulum swing

Time used to “march on”, and the pendulum swing was a metaphor which everyone understood.  No more.  The digital age of technological superiority has made such inane profundities left stacked upon the history of obsolescence.  But for cherished grandfather clocks in hallways of mansions forgotten, or in the mysteries of worn novels where the tick-tock represented the anticipation of the sudden death scream; the slow, mechanical device which moves to and fro, left to right, right to left, and into the eternal progression of marked time, is but an irritant for the noise it makes.

Have we outlasted the utility of mechanical complexity?  Does the software program in which we see nothing but an algorithm of undecipherable content ever transcend the fascination we glean from springs, weights and mechanisms of human innovation?

The time piece too heavy to carry about, yet never replaced the pocket watch transferred with generational delight, and reflected the craftsman’s care in perfecting the soul of a person’s worth.  Somehow, the digital face of a blinking light flashing when the electrical surge fails to protect, is not the same as the quiet peace of an undisturbed house when the pendulum ceases to swing because the owner forgot to adjust the weights.  And history now forgets, too, doesn’t it?

Are we at the far side of the extreme, never to swing back, because there is no pendulum to remind us?  Can the death of the clockmaker mean the end of reason and compromise, because there is no metaphor to realize, anymore?  We tend to believe that such metaphors follow upon a literary device of recognizing something more than the mere fodder of mechanical devices; but what if the opposite were true – that the cadence of history required the invention of the pendulum itself, and the stoppage of such back-and-forth, to-and-fro means that only the extremes of disproportionate swings will remain frozen as the epicenter of man’s egregious faults?

We assume much; and when we presume to follow history’s dialectical progression without considering the actions within our own willpower, Nietzsche’s eternal return to the bosom of our follies will surely unravel and reveal itself in the face of our reflected foolishness.  And so, as the proverbial pendulum has stopped, stuck in the timeless middle of muddled quietude, so the failure to make any progress in our own personal lives will be another lost metaphor in the eternal dustbin of forgotten concerns.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal Workers who want to break the cycle of being stuck perennially in the quicksand of mediocrity, it may be the ripened time to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether you are under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.  For, as time fails to move without the movement of objects surrounding, so the human frailty of non-movement and inertia is a broken mechanism deep in the recesses of the human heart.

Taking the next step – any step – in filing for Federal Employee Disability Retirement benefits with OPM, is at least a slight movement, a reverberation, of that time harkening for the pendulum to swing back to its proper place of origin.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement from Federal Employment: An Inventory of One

Throughout life, whether by force of habit or necessity of accumulated overstock of items amassed, shelves forgotten and goods remaining unpopular despite an overzealous belief in them “at the time”, we need to take an inventory of our “store”, whether concerning possessions, beliefs, relationships or business endeavors.  Inventories are difficult tasks; they remind us of the lack we possess, and the oversupply of that which we do not need.

Shelves of emotional overloads mirror the abundance of false confidence we placed in something; and lack of characteristic comforts tell of a narrative of avoidance, where emptiness echoes in the hollow passageways of walls without pictures, rooms without people, and loneliness without the crying sounds of children once laughing and giggling, and antique glasses tottering on the edge of tables unsteady as the racing feet of the little ones run by.  We take stock of our homes; review the performance of employees; evaluate whether a major purchase is wise; and inventory the hell out of other people and their faults; but in the end, it is the Inventory of One that matters alone.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to impact one’s career, hopes and dreams for the future, the problematic characteristic of failing to perform the one and only inventory — of one’s own self — is what often prompts the disastrous results in the continuing pursuance of excellence and dedication when such loyalty of endeavors needed to be paused.

It is is good thing to be loyal; better yet, to be dedicated; and commendable beyond reproach to show a constancy of fealty to the “mission of the agency”.  But at what cost?  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, is not an admission of defeat, but a recognition that tomorrow still has a future, the day after a sparkle of promise, and the day after that, a new road for further life.

In the end, we become the enemy of ourselves by refusing and failing to protect and preserve the very stockpile of amassed fortunes we have ignored.  For, dedication to others and fidelity to a cause greater than ourselves is a sure sign of good character, but of what worth is it if you fail to take an Inventory of One, and determine your place in the future plans of a universe impervious to the pleas of quiet desperation rising in the time of crisis?

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: The furrowed face

Does the palm reader tell from lines deepened and extended by time, or in the creases of birth and predetermined fate?  Do the ruts and chasms criss-crossing like doodling designs created by a madman mixing a cauldron of witch’s brew depend upon fate already set, or can the future be altered by choices one foresees?  And what of the face — the creases around one’s mouth, the ruts above the furrowed brow, or the fine filaments of timeless cuts around the eyes; do they tell a story of joy and promise, or of sadness and sorrow?

The furrowed face is but a moment’s expression; it is rather the corrugated painting, forever captured in the stitch of life’s experiences, which lasts in timeless bottles of floating memories, like butterflies caught in a web of deception where promises of boundless expectations and revelations of hope as sung from the loving tongues of mothers dreaming of tomorrow’s future for children yet unborn.

Time, experience, and confrontations of life tend to deepen the furrowed face of age.  As do medical conditions.  It is when the tripartite combination coalesces, that decisions need to be made, lest extinguishment of life become the goal of sorrow.  For, when a medical condition comes to the fore, it impacts one’s capacity and ability; when capacity and ability become impacted, then one’s work suffers; and when one’s work begins to suffer, the notice of employers, coworkers, and the Federal agency or the U.S. Postal Service begins to turn on its engine of harassment and adversarial modalities of meddlesome trickery.

Federal agencies and the U.S. Postal Service care not whether the ruts and grooves of the furrowed face deepen by the actions of an uncaring bureaucracy.

As Americans spend billions each year on health care and cosmetic products to enhance beauty and delay the inevitable lines of age, so it is often the best medicine to alter the predetermined fate of time by considering filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, when the furrowed face of life requires such a step.  Adulthood rarely spares any of us from the deep ruts of facial scars; and when there is a “baby face” in middle age, it often reflects deeper chasms and valleys within the psyche, where hidden traumas are screaming to be let out.

Federal and Postal employees who face the problems of work because of a medical condition have the option of filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM, and begin planning for another stage of one’s life in the private sector.  Not everyone has such an option or an opportunity in the face of a medical condition which robs the Federal or Postal worker from continuing in one’s chosen career, but OPM Disability Retirement is that rare benefit which allows for further employment while receiving an annuity.

In that sense, the furrowed face need not be the last and frozen picture of a person’s future, and the palm reader may yet be tentative in predicting the final chapter of one’s life.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire