FERS Disability Retirement Benefits: Of History Unknown

Many of us consider ourselves to be “history buffs” — we are proud that we can accurately recite the beginning dates and end-dates of major wars; of knowing the primary principals of each; of the sequence of Presidents; of who was shot and by whom; of when Fort Sumter was fired upon; of the day that Wall Street crashed, etc.

Dates are important to us; they provide a context for our present circumstances.  Yet, history is also about individual lives — often lost in the anonymity of greater events, and few of us have the imagination to appreciate how previous lives were lived — of not having indoor plumbing; of getting water from a well; of not having a refrigerator; of being so poverty-stricken that death by famine was often a perennial cycle of acceptance.

Other people, and other lives we barely even know or consider.  We barely know our next door neighbor, and yet we pride ourselves in accurately reciting authors from esoteric works of history.  Of the history unknown, they remain a mystery.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who have a sense that your contribution to the Federal Agency is somewhat akin to the history unknown — of relevance no longer appreciated and work left unappreciated — it may be time to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits.  You medical condition has essentially rendered you a “non-person”.  You are no longer a member of the “mission team”.

Consult with a FERS Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law and consider fading away with a Federal Disability annuity by joining the multitude of the History Unknown — or as General MacArthur once said, “Old soldiers never die, they simply fade away.”  And so for the history buffs: Where did he say it and in what year?

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS Medical Retirement from the OPM: The wasted life

Perception is one thing; reality is quite another.  Plato’s entire compendium of works can be reduced to the essence of that thought: The worth of life’s goal is to embrace pure Being, the reality that surrounds, and to distinguish between appearance and truth; the allegory of the Cave; the arguments with Thrasymachus; the diatribes against the poets — the latter, because they distort perception and create myths by which people live for and believe in.

Some would argue that the starkness of reality cannot be the sole arbiter of life’s value; that poetry adds to the worth of life, even if misperception of Being dominates.  What is a life’s value, and how is it determined?  Who considers that a life is wasted, and by what standard do we judge?

In the Allegory of the Cave — when the man who frees himself from the shackles of misperception climbs up and sees the sunlight: What if he desires to go back into the darkness of untruth, precisely because the unreality of the world is preferable to the pureness of Being?  And how much of convention and human folly attaches upon the judgment of worth?

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 judgment of others in determining the valuation of one’s life often gets in the way of doing that which is “best” for one’s circumstances.

Yes, career and continuation in a secure, stable job is important; and, yes, financial stability for the future is an important consideration in the decision-making process.  But so is health and the balance of one’s life.

When health becomes a concern where there arises an incompatibility between work and well-being, the latter must always be chosen as a priority over the former.  And while others may judge that an interruption of a promising career constitutes the wasted life, such conclusions are made by those who, like the unfettered encounter of the man in the Allegory of the Cave who sees the pure Being of reality by looking up at the sunlight, it is the blinding darkness of ignorance that follows which makes for poor judgment and lack of insight into another’s life.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Medical Retirement Legal Representation: “It would happen, anyway…”

This can be a catch-all excuse, of course.  Fatalism is a self-contradictory philosophical perspective; one cannot by definition remain in such a belief-system without experiencing the self-immolation of one’s own convictions.  What if we prefaced each and every one of our actions with such a statement. “It would happen, anyway.”

The operative principle falls behind the “It”, of course, and the remainder of the fatalism makes sense when once we identify the opening dummy subject that is otherwise left unstated, as a pronoun that remains unattended, often purposefully.  The “It”, of course, can mean many things, including: death; failure; a disastrous outcome; complete destruction, etc.

To conclude that X would happen regardless of the causal interventions of human resolve perpetuated by the will of a conscious mind, is to attribute to the universe a determinism that is without design or goodness.  Is there such an omnipotent being that cares not, perhaps similar to Aristotle’s Unmoved Mover?  Of such a being, Aristotle of course did not conceptualize a meddling kind of god, good or bad, but rather where perfection caused others to desire reaching towards its apex of unperturbed immovability.

But why must fatalism always posit the negative?  Why must it always end in disaster, death or progressive decay, and not towards some optimism of a future yet to be determined?  Why don’t we hear anyone say, instead, “Oh, it would happen, anyway…”, but implying that the dummy subject of “It” is meant to connote greater fortunes for tomorrow, a happier life to be had, or better days ahead of health and joy?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are stuck in the rut of a negative outlook because of a medical condition that pervades and will not go away, it is time to replace the dummy subject of “It” with a pronoun or other grammatical subject that conveys a positive outlook upon life’s travails.

Filing an effective 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, is an important first step in filling in the “unknowns” of life’s tomorrows.  And, ultimately, that is the key point, isn’t it?

To avert, subvert and otherwise replace the negative with a positive — and for a Federal employee who can no longer perform all of the essential elements of one’s position, it is the negative “It” that must be replaced with a positive and effective Federal Disability Retirement Application, lest fatalism lead to a determinism that undermines the positive tomorrows that are yet to be.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Legal Representation on Federal Disability Retirement Claims: Joy and trials

It is the defining of life itself; of the spectrum across a wide range of peaks, valleys, proverbial mountaintops and chasms of tumults like a groan beneath the terrain of the earth.  We attempt to avoid the latter and quantitatively expand the former, thinking that if we fill our experiences with joy, the trials will be lessened or the impact less eventful.

There are gauges of summer, the plateau of fall; we sense the discontent of winter and the exhilaration of spring; and like the subtle pull of the orbs afar that impact the tides and moons of horses galloping in the night, the shudder of sensations unfelt and the future yet untold make anxious of us all.

Joy is the experience of human beings; trials, the objective world impinging upon the subjectivity of our daily refrain.  Can we even have one without the other?

We posit fictional hypotheticals that probably never were; of Rousseau’s “State of Nature” where savages roamed in scant loincloths without a care in the world; and of paradise lost like Milton’s foreboding of a utopia now crumbling into the dystopian paragon of untruths and Orwell’s misinformation where totalitarianism becomes the choice of self-immolation.

As Being cannot mean anything without its opposite, Nothingness, so is it not the trials of life that magnify and make relevant the joy felt on any given day?  Can one truly exist without the other?

And yet we attempt to minimize and diminish the latter in thinking that we deserve the former.  But as the inane philosopher now long forgotten once stated with annoyance and greater impertinence, “It is what it is”.  Whatever that means.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are experiencing the “trials” period of one’s life because of a medical condition that prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the attempt to jump over and across the great divide so that one can get back to the “joy” part of life’s offerings by trying to “work with” the Federal agency or Postal service, or to “seek an accommodation” with one’s Federal department or Postal facility, there is another proverbial adage that comes to mind: “Banging one’s head up against the wall.”

It is often the case, unfortunately, that in order to get from the “trials” to the “joy” part of life, the Federal or Postal employee will have to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee wants to or not.

For, in the end, the truth of the matter is, the “trials” part of life is something you have little or no control over – such as a medical condition; it is only the “joy” part of the deal that you can assert some dominance over: by taking the affirmative steps to file an OPM Disability Retirement application.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement Lawyer: The Pastoral Painting

It is that which we strive to achieve; a moment of quietude, an aside of reserved inattention; that plateau where sheep graze silently in pastures green, and the distant echo of a neighbor’s dog barking is merely but a contour from the daily hubbub of reality.  Perhaps the pastoral setting is but an idealized paradigm; but, without it, there is a sense that life is pointless.  We may engage in daily meanderings and wonder about teleological issues on high; but, in the end, something more mundane is the normative constriction which compels us to act.

There is a scene in an old Western, where Mose Harper (who is played by Hank Worden) makes it known that all he wants at the end of his trials and travails is an old rocking chair to sit in, to rock the time away in the wilderness of the life he experiences.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition impacts one’s livelihood, the capacity to continue in one’s chosen career, and the ability to maintain a regular work schedule, filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management is tantamount to that metaphorical rocking chair.  For some, it may not seem like much; but one doesn’t know (as the esteemed Paul Harvey used to say) “the rest of the story”, of whether and what Mose Harper did after a few tranquil evenings rocking away.

For the Federal and Postal employee, whether that Federal and Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, it must often be taken in sequential steps of advancement.  The idealized plateau as represented in a Pastoral Painting is often the first step in the process of further life-experiences; and just as Mose Harper asked only for a rocking chair at the end of the day, it is what happens the day after, and the day after that, which will determine the future course of one’s life beyond being an annuitant under FERS Disability Retirement.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement Attorney: Uncharacteristic Behavior

It is the clash between an expectation and the actualization of an encounter, which determines one’s perspective of self-fulfillment of a belief, or a resulting dismay from failure of verifying the basis of a paradigm.  Characteristic behavior is thus that type of human encounter which meets with, or exceeds, one’s predetermined paradigm of what one has already believed to be so; to act out of that previously considered belief system, by definition makes it fall outside of the realm of such expectation.

For the Federal employee and the U.S. Postal worker, the bureaucratic complexity of the entire administrative process of preparing, formulating and 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 normally not a surprise, and meets with or even exceeds, the expectation of an already-formed paradigm of what constitutes the “characteristic behavior” of the system as a whole.

It is the anomaly of the century when efficiency, helpfulness and pleasantries prevail throughout the process of filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, where one hears with surprise and shock that it was “uncharacteristic”.  Sadly, that tells us something.  While somewhat unfortunate, we must always remember that the road of every bureaucratic process is paved with personalities of every type.  We tend to lump the entirety of an administrative process into a single cup and cauldron of judgment, but the reality is that there are multiple categories, just as there are different types of people throughout the universe, distinctly compartmentalized into:  helpful; friendly; efficient; nasty; backstabber; fair; unfair; loyal; unpredictable; just to name a few.

The process of filing a Federal Disability Retirement application through OPM can be a stressful one, if only because it is based upon an obvious stressor to begin with:  a medical condition which impacts one’s ability to perform one’s Federal or Postal job.  But it is not the bureaucratic process itself which adds or detracts from the inherent complexities of the process, but the behavior — characteristic or not — of those who must help along the way or hinder the necessary transition of the Federal or Postal employee, from one of active Federal or Postal employee to that of disability annuitant.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

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