Civil Service Disability Retirement Benefits: Human activity

The dizzying pace of it all defies comprehension.  We are, indeed, busy-bees, always engaged in this project, that protest, intervening in the affairs of others when our own are in such a state of disarray; up at it early in the morning and continuing until exhaustion sets in or wayward dementia in old age where even nursing homes impose human activity every night – bingo, dance, meditation, Tai Chi, family visitation day; not even a break for the aged.

Then, when we see those documentary films in foreign lands, of men taking hours to untangle the fishing net in preparation for the next day’s work; of sitting with family members in gathering for a meal; and of mountainous monasteries where gardening for supplemental food sources is an act of reflective repose, we wonder if the lives we live – so full of human activity supposedly for a purposeful end – is the only, the best, or the pinnacle of options left for us?

Did we ever choose the quantification of human activity we engage in?  Did we, at some point in our lives, sit down and say, Yes, I will accept to do that, agree to embrace this, and refuse all others?  Or, did the incremental, subtle and always insidious wave of requests, obligations and pressure to perform just overtake us, until one day we wake up in the middle of the night and recognize that our time is not our own, the human activity is without purpose or conscious constructiveness, and the projects we think are so dear to us, merely destroy and debilitate the human spirit?  That is the alienation talked about by Camus and the French Existentialists, is it not?

Human activity cannot be so senseless or purposeless; it must be to build, to advance, to secure for the future; and yet, as we lay in the quietude of nightly sweats, it becomes evident that we perform it for means otherwise intended.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to alienate one’s sense of mission and purpose from that of the priority that should be recognized – one’s health and the ability to have joy in life – the contradiction and conundrum is in “letting go” of that which has been a part of our lives for so long:  The job, the career path, the sense of “belonging” to a community of people who believe in the mission of the agency or the U.S. Postal Service.

Like barnacles clinging to the underside of a ship’s belly, we grapple and travel through life without quite knowing why, where we are going, or for what purpose we originally attached ourselves.

Preparing, formulating and filing 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 of CSRS Offset, is a way of:  A.  Recognizing the priority of health, B. Beginning the process of detaching ourselves as mere barnacles upon a ship’s underbelly, and C. Reflecting upon the course of one’s future.  Human activity is great and all – but it is the things we choose not to do that often define who we are in the hubbub of this mindless frenzy.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: Avoiding the repetitive in a narrative

Why do we believe that adding the repetition of words, especially adverbs, will create a compelling narrative?  If you ascribe an adjective to an object, then ad an adverb – say, “very” – does repeating and inserting another magnify the significance of the narrative itself, or detract by placing a grammatical marker by bringing attention that the very necessity of the addition undermines the efficacy of the noun to which all of the additions point to, in the first place?  May not the noun itself stand on its own two feet, so to speak; or, at least with the supportive crutches of an adjective?

If a person posits that things are “very bad”, does the person responding who adds, “No, things are very, very bad” contribute to the discourse in that singular addition?  And what of the third in the discussion, who says, “Yes, I must agree, things are very, very, very bad”?  And what if a fourth person – unassuming and generally unemotional, who puts a sense of finality to the entire conversation by declaring:  “No, you are all right.  Things are bad.”  Did the last statement without the adverb and the repetition of additional tautological ringers, say anything less in the utterance, and conversely, did the third contributor add anything more to the discourse?

Often enough in life, that which we believe we are enhancing, we are merely detracting from in the very repetition of discourse.  It is like a signal or a marker; the red flag that arises suspicion is sometimes waved through the unintentional attempt to bring about attention through repetitive enhancement, and it is often the noun with the singular adjective that evinces the quietude of force in grammatical parlay.  Pain, anguish and medical conditions often seek to descriptively reveal through unnecessary repetition.

For the Federal employee and U.S. Postal worker who is working on preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted through one’s own agency or the H.R. Shared Services Center (for Postal employees) in Greensboro, N.C. (if the Federal or Postal employee is still with the Federal Agency, or not yet separated for more than 31 days), preparing adequate and sufficient responses on SF 3112A, Applicant’s Statement of Disability, must be embraced with care, fortitude, forthrightness and deliberation of factual, medical, legal and personal weaving of a compelling narrative.

Inclusion of too many adverbs may be a distraction; meanderings of thought and unnecessary information will undermine the entirety of the construct; and while the linguistic tool of repetition can be effective and compelling, too much of a “good thing” may undermine the singularity of a narrative’s natural soul.

In the end, the Statement of Disability prepared by a Federal or Postal Disability Retirement applicant should be a compelling narrative delineating a discourse of bridging the nexus between medical condition and one’s positional duties.  It should be descriptive.  It should be very descriptive.  It should be very, very descriptive.  It should also include the descriptive, the legal and the personal, just not very, very, very so.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

 

Federal Employee Disability Retirement: The expected party

It is the emptiness and void of what could have been, or even should have been; of regrets untold and remorse unuttered.

Whether for a special celebration marking a person’s birthday or an event of magnified relevance; or a turning point in a person’s life – of a 10th anniversary, exceeding expectations of mortality, in waiting, or perhaps a common achievement by others in everyday living but for handicaps and disabilities that make it challenging to meet; whatever the event, the party never thrown for it magnifies a negation of recognition, and like a pinprick into the heart and soul of a person’s life, it deflates the very essence of joy.

“Oh, it would have been nice to—” but the person is gone, and hears not the sudden want and desire of recognition.  “It’s too bad we didn’t get together and—” except that the inaction following the time of relevance has long passed, and it is such actions which derive the sincerity of words spoken, otherwise mere empty vessels of utterances without meaning or purpose.

Most can justify and minimize, and instead replace such statements of regretful remorse with offensive parries, as in:  “Oh, she wouldn’t have appreciated it, anyway”, or the kicker – “He didn’t like those things.”  But that is not the point.  The party never thrown is not merely a negation of recognition earned, but a window into the heart of those who never truly cared in the first place.

Words are cheap and can be bandied about and flaunted endlessly without consequence of actions; but the negation of that which should have been, and could have been initiated but for want of selfless endeavor, is a missing slice of life that can never be replaced.  That is, unfortunately, what is often left behind during the process of preparing, formulating and filing a Federal Disability Retirement application, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

The recognition of past contributions is suddenly no more; that party which “might” have been considered, is no longer; and suddenly the ‘golden boy or girl’ who could do no wrong, is the pariah, the dead-weight in the office, and the continuing drag upon the agency’s mission.

Whether the agency or the U.S. Postal Service will ‘support’ the Federal or Postal worker’s Federal Disability Retirement application, and the unstated or concealed reasons for such support – to ‘get rid’ of the dead-weight, as opposed to showing some empathy; or to have that position filled by someone ‘more productive‘, is beside the point.

It matters not the why or even the ‘if’; for, whatever the underlying reasoning, don’t expect to received that recognition you once never sought but always seemed to get.  For, in the end, the Federal or Postal employee filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, to be submitted through one’s agency, then on to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, will know one’s ‘true friends’ and sincere coworkers, by the party never thrown.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Employee Disability Retirement: The party never thrown

It is the emptiness and void of what could have been, or even should have been; of regrets untold and remorse unuttered.

Whether for a special celebration marking a person’s birthday or an event of magnified relevance; or a turning point in a person’s life – of a 10th anniversary, exceeding expectations of mortality, in waiting, or perhaps a common achievement by others in everyday living but for handicaps and disabilities that make it challenging to meet; whatever the event, the party never thrown for it magnifies a negation of recognition, and like a pinprick into the heart and soul of a person’s life, it deflates the very essence of joy.

“Oh, it would have been nice to—” but the person is gone, and hears not the sudden want and desire of recognition.  “It’s too bad we didn’t get together and—” except that the inaction following the time of relevance has long passed, and it is such actions which derive the sincerity of words spoken, otherwise mere empty vessels of utterances without meaning or purpose.

Most can justify and minimize, and instead replace such statements of regretful remorse with offensive parries, as in:  “Oh, she wouldn’t have appreciated it, anyway”, or the kicker – “He didn’t like those things.”  But that is not the point.  The party never thrown is not merely a negation of recognition earned, but a window into the heart of those who never truly cared in the first place.

Words are cheap and can be bandied about and flaunted endlessly without consequence of actions; but the negation of that which should have been, and could have been initiated but for want of selfless endeavor, is a missing slice of life that can never be replaced.  That is, unfortunately, what is often left behind during the process of preparing, formulating and filing a Federal Disability Retirement application, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

The recognition of past contributions is suddenly no more; that party which “might” have been considered, is no longer; and suddenly the ‘golden boy or girl’ who could do no wrong, is the pariah, the dead-weight in the office, and the continuing drag upon the agency’s mission.

Whether the agency or the U.S. Postal Service will ‘support’ the Federal or Postal worker’s Federal Disability Retirement application, and the unstated or concealed reasons for such support – to ‘get rid’ of the dead-weight, as opposed to showing some empathy; or to have that position filled by someone ‘more productive‘, is beside the point.

It matters not the why or even the ‘if’; for, whatever the underlying reasoning, don’t expect to received that recognition you once never sought but always seemed to get.  For, in the end, the Federal or Postal employee filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, to be submitted through one’s agency, then on to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, will know one’s ‘true friends’ and sincere coworkers, by the party never thrown.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire