Federal Employee Medical Retirement: Stating the Obvious

Sometimes, it is necessary; at others, to do so appears inane and redundant; and yet, to state the obvious is often as important as not, and someone has to do it, lest the obvious become the proverbial elephant in the room which is too easily avoided and becomes too difficult to maneuver around.

The boy who cried wolf once too often stated the obvious, but in the end it wasn’t enough to alarm the townspeople because no one believed the obvious; and for the emperor who wore no clothes, the obvious had to be pointed out by a child who didn’t know any better, to a populace that should have known better.  Or how about Little Red Riding Hood — shouldn’t she have known the obvious?  Or does innocence bypass the excuse of ignorance such that we can overlook the faults of youth?

As it turns out, the obvious often does need to be stated, if only to remind us that the world of illusions we have created for ourselves cannot withstand the harsh reality of the universe within which we must survive.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition no longer allows us to continue in our current Federal or Postal jobs, perhaps it has become abundantly obvious that Federal Disability Retirement must by necessity be the next step to undertake.  It is obvious.  It has been obvious for some time.  Yet, it takes you to state the obvious, even though your spouse, your coworkers, and even your own treating doctor have been telling you that for some time, now.

Consult with a FERS Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law, lest you need the obvious to be stated once again: You need to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits — now.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Early Retirement for Federal Workers with Disabilities: Progress

Whether as a noun or a verb, the definition remains a mirror-image of one another.  Moreover, it is the implication that always makes one pause — of a juggernaut forward, always advancing, and where societal norms and interpretations forever seem to cast a judgment upon the lack thereof.

In other societies, the status quo or clinging on to traditions, what has “always been”, or even just to maintain a semblance of what was done yesterday, is enough and sufficient for contentment and happiness.  Here, in modernity, “progress” is always about the new, the innovative, and yesterday’s accolades are merely today’s lesser applause.

Progress as a noun indicates a noticeable jump in comparison to today, and a quantum leap by standards of yesterday; and as a verb, it is the action of always advancing, like an army that never sleeps and a navy whose ships never cease amidst the waves of twilight engines churning ever forward.  Are we never allowed to rest for a moment?  Do vacations count, or naps to refresh and recollect our thoughts?

Modern life is always seemingly one of movement with never an allowance for reflection as to whether the direction we are moving towards is the right one, leaving aside whether we even desire to be drawn within the compass of spectrums undecided.

And what about a medical condition — when it develops, arises and begins to impede, do we look upon it merely as a nuisance as opposed to a priority, and is it because it blocks this pathway of the mythology that “progress” must always be maintained?  Do others see it as an impediment, as well, where “slowing down” the team means that you must be sacrificed and cast aside, left behind like so much human detritus no longer of value or 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 and position, it is often this ingrained sense of “progress” (or lack thereof) that begins to insidiously overwhelm.  For, we in the West have a warped sense of time, value, priorities and perspectives when it comes to what constitutes and reflects progress.

Preparing a Federal Disability Retirement can be viewed as a form of “progress”, if only because it allows for a different turn, another option and a perspective taken in another form of what it means to “progress” (emphasis on the last syllable).

Sometimes in life, one’s priorities have to be evaluated and reconstituted; just “moving forward” is not necessarily progress for everyone at all times, and preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application when everyone else seems to be leaving you behind may merely indicate progress away from the pack of lies that you have been fed throughout your life, that mere movement means that you are going anywhere, and the needle of the compass tells of which direction.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Lawyer Representation for OPM Disability Claims: The charade

We have all enjoyed playing the game – of the silent act in order for our team to come up with the name of the book, a famous saying, identification of a country or place; and with some inebriation as a helpful assistant to even greater pathways of outrageous laughter, the game is enjoyed in homes and neighborhoods when gatherings aggregate in times of holidays or special occasions.

It is the silent opera for the actor; the guessing laughter and thoughtful pose for the other members of one’s team.  How did that game come about?  Is it because games reflect a reality of a slice of life?  It reminds one of the “perfect lie” – you know, the one that always retains a kernel of truth, and thus is believable.

The imperfect lie is the one that is made up out of whole cloth – the one’s that a kid who is not yet a master of the believable lie tells to the parents, thinking that a make-believe world is distinguishable from the objective universe of reality, but that you can simply insert an imaginary event into the day-to-day workings of this parallel universe.

No, the perfect lie is like the charade of life – it is acting, but always retaining and containing a slice of reality and truth.  And of other games – of monopoly, cross-word puzzles, trivial pursuit, etc.; are they merely distractions to escape the harshness of life, or do they contain a sufficient amount of that slice to make it all the more interesting?

And of the charade of life – to what extent do we engage it daily, and if someone catches you in the act, can you simply respond with, “Well, I will just playing charades with you all.”  To which the audience (or the police) might say, “But no one else was playing, and you have no team.”  To which the Shakespearean actor would say, “Ah, but all the world is a stage!”

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to prevent one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, it often seems like you have been playing at the game of charades for quite some time.  The only problem is, your own “team members” haven’t been trying to guess at what is wrong, but rather, have been trying to ignore or otherwise act as if they don’t know.  Or, perhaps you, too, have been trying to hide the medical condition, in somewhat of a “reverse charades play”.

But the time ultimately comes, where you have to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether you are under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.  At that point, the game of charades is over – for you have been finally realized and recognized as “the man who is filing for Federal Disability Retirement” and the Federal or Postal employee who suffers from a medical condition.

Yes, real life is a reflection of the games we play, and charades is truly a mirror of who we are.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Postal & Federal Medical Retirement: Imperfect lives

Is it a characteristic trait that must even be pointed out?  How, to begin with, did we even come to possess the antonym of that concept?  Of course, that is partly the residual argument made by medieval theologians as to further evidence of the existence of God – that in order to have come to possess the concept of “perfection”, there must by logical necessity exist a being of the sort such that we can even comprehend such an idea.

Thus may the converse of that argument be made:  that in recognizing our own imperfect lives, we must have recognized perfection as a contrast to our own state of existence; ergo, a perfect Being must exist.

Of course, there are fallacies to be pointed out in such argumentation (to which the ancients would immediately posit that there are perfect logical explanations, otherwise we would be unable to recognize the imperfect fallacies contained therein – and ad infinitum, ad nauseum), but in the end, what comes out is that there is no questioning a basic fact:  We all live imperfect lives.  That, in and of itself, is not the interesting part of the equation, however.

What is astounding is that, despite the recognition that we all live imperfect lives, extrapolated from the realization that it is impossible to live a perfect life, we nevertheless attempt to portray to others, and the world over, that it is simply not the case that we live an imperfect life, but that we come as close to perfection as possible, and it is only every other schmuck that lives an imperfect life, even though we all know that the other schmuck knows that we, too, live imperfect lives.

What evidence is there of that assertion?  Look at how people act on Facebook, Instagram, any and all magazines that contained the air-brushed images of pictorial perfection – we all fear to reveal the ugly underbelly of reality, and attempt instead to show how near-to-perfection we live.  Or, the secondary argument goes, if we don’t live perfect lives, we come as close to humanly possible.

And if that one doesn’t quite convince, then the use of a rhetorical device:  Well, what choice do we have, in the end?  That’s the point; in the end, the living of an imperfect life is greater evidence that such a characteristic is not necessarily any fault attributable; it is just the natural state of a decomposing body, a deteriorating mind, of organic matter that is exposed to the influences of the world around.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who realize that a medical condition is preventing the Federal employee or Postal worker from performing all of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the recognition that we all live imperfect lives is an important one.  For, what often prevents the Federal or Postal employee from initiating the necessary steps to secure a Federal Disability Retirement benefit is the fear that others may “think” that to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, first through your own Human Resource Department, then on to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, may reveal the underlying imperfection of your life.

Don’t worry about it; if you haven’t figured it out, the “others” who may think that you are imperfect for doing what needs to be done, are imperfect as well.  Really?

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement from Federal Government Employment: Wars forgotten

We tend to believe that the wars we fight today will forever remain in the memories of future generations; and so we carry about us, in the universe of our own minds, an imprint of selective relevance, while all the time passing by buried encounters of past generations left in remains of this earth’s bosom.

How many pastures of hallowed grounds do we step upon each day, where centuries ago the Native American fought against a rival tribe?  Or in Europe, where fiefdoms were protectorates and knights battled with sabers drawn and armies vanquished?  But for ivory-tower historians who dig through the minutiae of battles in times forgotten, what wars are remembered excepting in the minds of loved ones left behind and old men and women shuttered in corners of traumatic memories once relevant, but now shelved as dusty remains in an uncaring universe?

Who remembers the Spanish Civil War (except, perhaps, the dying countrymen themselves) but through literary genres by Hemingway’s reportage, his classic novel, For Whom the Bell Tolls, and of Malraux’s participation and subsequent writings – all overshadowed by portending events just northeast in the dark cauldrons of Germany’s bestiality and the world marching towards a greater war?  And what of private wars – those within one’s own mind, or between neighbors, within marriages and among family members; do we too loosely bandy about such terms, or is it appropriate based upon the level of ferocity and the tactics used?

Perhaps you are sitting around with a group of friends or colleagues, and discussing irrelevant but fun topics of dystopian pastimes, as in, “What if Germany had won the war; what would this world be like today?” (Some would immediately contend, of course, that both Germany and Japan did indeed win their respective wars, ultimately – through economic dominance and rise of subsequent influence; and thus, to engage in hypotheticals is a meaningless exercise of embracing a virtual reality which has its parallel universe in reality, anyway).  But in the course of the conversation, an individual sitting morosely in the corner suddenly blurts out, “I was in the war of ___, and that is how I lost my leg – see!”

Would silence ensue, because the rules of the “fun” game were merely to engage in make-believe, and here was evidence of a warrior from a real war?  Or, given the same set of circumstances, one of the participants suddenly admits:  “I am fighting a war with my family.”  Would we take him seriously, or just ignore with aplomb and impassive expressions a deviation from the world of our own fantasies?

Wars forgotten – whether of unnamed tombstones or hallowed grounds overgrown with weeds and concrete buildings; or of private hells within the confines of one’s own mind; they are all “real” to the extent we remember, and vanish upon the last person who recalls.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who must fight against the ongoing “wars” within agencies, and are forced to battle their own private hells because of medical conditions that impact the ability and capacity to perform the essential elements of one’s positional duties, the strategic move in 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 of CSRS Offset, may be the best way to move beyond the trench-warfare that one must engage in daily.

For, in the end, the wars forgotten are all advanced beyond by some movement forward – and for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who must get beyond the rut of this career, filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application is that final echo of a marching step advancing, in the constant and all-encompassing battles in those wars forgotten.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: When and what to file

In preparing an application for Federal Disability Retirement, multiple standard government forms must be completed.  As most Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers are under the “FERS” system (an acronym for “Federal Employees Retirement System”) as opposed to the older system of CSRS (standing for, “Civil Service Retirement System”), the applicable forms are comprised of two (2) “sets”:  The SF 3107 Series (encompassing the basic forms needed to apply for “immediate retirement”, which is part of the process of filing for Federal Disability Retirement) and the SF 3112 Series (which includes the Applicant’s Statement of Disability – SF 3112A; the Supervisor’s Statement – SF 3112B ; and the Agency’s efforts for Reassignment and Accommodation form – SF 3112D).

Both sets of forms must be completed, and it is essential that the applicant understands the complexity, involvement and onerous nature of each form, before engaging in the process of preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application.  All such forms – once completed – need to be “filed” with the appropriate agency, and this becomes somewhat tricky.

To understand the administrative process of the entire procedural phenomenon, we need to begin with the oversight of some statutory principles.  First, all Federal Disability Retirement applications must be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management within one (1) year of being separated from the Federal Agency or the U.S. Postal Service.  But there are “sub-parts” to such a Statute of Limitations (so named because it limits the ability of a Federal or Postal employee from filing a Federal Disability Retirement application if one goes past the 1-year deadline).

The first “subpart” concerns the initial 31 days after separation from Federal Service.  If you, as a Federal employee or U.S. Postal employee, have been separated, but not for more than thirty one (31) days, then you should still file through your agency’s Human Resource Office or the H.R. Shared Service Office of the U.S. Postal Service, located in Greensboro, North Carolina.  As a practical matter, if the time of separation is approaching the 31st day, you should probably just wait until after the 31-day period, and instead file directly with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management in Boyers, Pennsylvania – which brings us to the second “subpart” concerning separation from Federal Service or the U.S. Postal Service:  If you have been separated for over 31 days from the Federal Agency or the U.S. Postal Service, then you are required to file your Federal Disability Retirement application directly to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management in Boyers, Pennsylvania.

Likely, if you have been separated from the Federal Agency or the U.S. Postal Service, the U.S. Office of Personnel Management in Boyers, Pennsylvania will request your SF 50 or PS Form 50, which is evidence of the actual separation from your Federal Agency (now former) or the U.S. Postal Service; but even if your former Agency or the U.S. Postal Service has not yet issued you such a form, indicating the formal separation from Federal Service, you should always make sure that you file your Federal Disability Retirement application before the 1-year Statute of Limitations has expired.

Beyond these “fundamentals” of when and what to file, are substantive and procedural issues which are too complex to extrapolate in a limited forum.  To further understand the intricacies, you as a Federal or Postal employee, if considering preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, should either exhaustively research the statutory or case-law background in preparing your Federal or Postal Disability Retirement application, or consult an attorney who is knowledgeable about issues concering the proper preparation, formulation and filing of a Federal Disability Retirement application.

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