OPM Disability Retirement: The Skill of Writing

For most, it does not come naturally.  Hemingway once purportedly stated that it “is easy to write.  Just sit in front of your typewriter and bleed.”  The antithetical concepts of “easy” and “bleed”, of course, is what makes the statement so profoundly ironic and poignantly perceptive; for, the idea of writing encapsulates a simple phenomena: the mechanical process of cursive discourse or punching of a keyboard; and yet, the complexity comes about in formulating and conveying ideas, thoughts and concepts, and transferring them from mind to matter.

Whether the computer and laptop have forever destroyed the skill of writing can be debated, of course.  There is a more contemplative component to hand writing — of a cursive discourse that is more intimate in its reflective methodology, as opposed to the ability of typing upon a keyboard, cutting and pasting, and never having to worry about editing and correcting because that can all be done so efficiently through modern technological means.

In the end, the skill of writing takes practice, and another element which many people overlook — of reading good writing in order to learn the skill of writing.

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 or Postal job, remember that your Federal Disability Retirement application is ultimately a paper presentation to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.  The skill of writing is paramount in preparing a successful Federal Disability Retirement application.

Contact a Federal Employee Disability Retirement Lawyer who possesses an effective level of the skill of writing, for that is ultimately what will persuade, argue, and logically convey the relevant, significant and compelling story which comprises your Federal Disability Retirement case.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS Employee Disability Retirement Benefits: Getting There

Where is the “there”?  What is the mode of “getting”?  Normally, we don’t even think about it, and in modernity where we rely upon a GPS tracking device, the mind has no concept of non-mechanical means of devising a pathway.

In centuries prior, whether by the direction of the sun or the constellation of the stars; or, more recently but of antiquated methodologies, we could competently use a compass or a Rand McNally map which folds out and where numbered and lettered graphs could pinpoint the roads and highways most efficient for travel.  But Google maps and other similar devices have changed all of that.  We barely give consideration to the question, “Do we know how to get there?” — other than the reflexive response of, “Oh, I’ll just punch in the address into my Smartphone”.

Yet, because of such thoughtless approaches which lull us into passivity and a false sense of security, we have become trained into become drones of monotonous routines, unable to think about the basic questions which can become complicated affairs in a different context.

“Getting There” — is an important consideration for Federal and Postal employees who are considering filing for FERS Disability Retirement benefits from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.  What needs to be done?  How does one prove one’s case?  What constitutes sufficiency of evidence?  What is the legal criteria in proving one’s case?  Is it as simple as “all that”?

Consult with an experienced attorney who specializes in FERS Disability Retirement Law before and during the process of filing for Federal Disability Retirement.  For, in the end, if you don’t know the pathway for getting there, you will likely end up lost in the morass of bureaucratic complications within a neighborhood of denials and disappointments.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS Disability Retirement from the OPM: The last line of a poem

How important is the last line of a poem?  Can there be a poem that disappoints because of the last line, or can the finality that ends with a period (or not, depending upon the structure followed) be a so-so metaphor that evokes a yawn and a grimace?

If the rest of the poem, stanza after stanza, contains images by mysterious metaphors which provoke the mind’s imagination to heights previously untouched, but then finishes with a final line that makes one puzzled and doubting, do we say of it, “Well, it was a great poem up until that very last line”?  What if the poet meant it to be so — that the intent of the poem itself was to contrast the fickle manner in which images can form into pinnacles of fancy, only to be disappointed by a singular phrase of mundane commonness?

If the generally-accepted definition of poetry, as opposed to prose, is the focus upon the unit of a sentence aghast with metaphorical flourishes which evoke and provoke images, scents and cacophony of voices haunting throughout the hallways of a mind’s eye, then each line must of greater necessity remain reliably un-pedestrian.  Yet — why is it that the last line of a poem remains so important?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition necessitates preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits under FERS, the last line of a poem can be likened to the final touches of an effective Federal Disability Retirement packet.

Does it have an extensive legal memorandum accompanying it — to make the persuasive push for an approval?  Have the sentences making up the Applicant’s Statement of Disability (SF 3112A) been made to evoke and provoke images of an inevitable approval?

It is, after all, not poetry but prose; yet, just like the last line of a poem, a Federal Disability Retirement application should be formulated with thoughtfulness and care, lest the last line of the poem provoke a denial from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: “I would rather. . .”

The ellipses that follows is from the Ancient Greek that denotes “omission” or “that something which follows which is left blank”, and allows for wandering thoughts and meandering reflections to complete the lack.  What is the range of an acceptable addendum?  Does it matter what the prefatory statement allows for, and does the logic of its completion depend upon the spectrum of grammatical technicalities that confine and maintain boundaries of meaningful discourse?

For example, what if a person was asked to complete the incomplete sentence, and the response is:  “I would rather [red, blue, pink and all of the flowers in the universe].”  Would we say to the person, “Wait a minute, I asked you to complete the thought and you have provided me with gibberish.”?  And he/she comes back with:  “That’s how I would finish the sentence, because that’s how I feel.”   Would that be allowable?  Or, should the rules of grammar confine and restrict, so that the formality of completion should reflect a coherence that is expected and anticipated, such as, “I would rather [be at the beach than going into work today]”?

In the insular universe of private thoughts, of course, we can add whatever fanciful thoughts that infringe upon the uncertainty of our subconscious minds; but when the breach between private/public dichotomy occurs, suddenly we are thrown into an arena that restricts and confines, and compels us to follow the rules of conversational efficiency, including grammatical rules, traditional sense of coherence, logical consistency and meaningful conceptual constructs.  Exiting the arena of private thoughts right into the concentric complexities of the public world alters the rules of engagement.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to impact, prevent and block the Federal or Postal employee from performing all of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal job, the critical point of departure — from breaching that dichotomy between the insular world of the “private” and stepping over into the “public” — begins when first there is an admission that a “problem” exists.

Preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted ultimately to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, is likened to completing the fanciful thought that begins with, “I would rather…”.  The replacement of the ellipses can have many forms, restricted and delimited by grammatical constrictions and  restrictive contexts, but no Federal or Postal employee who begins the process ends such a sentence with, “I would rather … [be on disability retirement than be healthy and continue to remain in my chosen career].

Those who believe that there is a scintilla of coherence or meaningfulness in such a sentence do not know Federal and Postal employees.  Instead, it is a choice resulting from limited options, but sometime the best one available, as filing for an OPM Disability Retirement may be the only alternative where other such contingencies have already been exhausted.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

CSRS & FERS Disability Retirement: Life’s silent opera

Is not much of opera a booming voice, a lingering chord and the grand mayhem of combining movement with long, loud and hanging sounds emitted from men and women who are born with a talent rarely heard?  So, can there be a silent opera?  An opera where movement and gestures are seen, but when the performers open their mouths, only silence come out?  If one-half of opera is the singing and the uniqueness of voices, while the other half is comprised of extravagant costumes and sets that tell the narration of the story through dramatic display, can life be bifurcated any more than an opera?

And, yet, isn’t that what much of life is – of a silent opera, where we notice, recognize and even sometimes acknowledge the movements of another person, but rarely listen or hear anything about that person?  How well do you know the person sitting next to you, or your next door neighbor whom you have seen for over a decade?

We ask not questions that might query and squeeze out narratives otherwise unknown and ignored, and so long as we attend life’s silent opera, we only glean half of the story, if that.  And to others, likewise, we are life’s silent opera.  They mind their own business, and we ours; and that is what we call “privacy” and the heart of individualism, as opposed to “collectivism” or, in more picturesque settings, of a “community” – something which we fool ourselves into believing exists, anyway, but spending countless hours of valuable time searching the Internet and engaging in make-believe that Facebook is a “community”.

Then, of course, life’s silent opera often includes a medical condition, or some pain or trauma experienced or currently undergoing, but of which no one else is aware.  The movements are still there, and even the extravagant settings.  Perhaps a person walks with a limp, or as he or she sits down, an involuntary grimace shadows the expression; yet, no complaint is made, no sound is emitted, and so we are satisfied with half of the storyline.

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 the Federal or Postal worker’s job, life’s silent opera begins.

It is time to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, because – while no one acknowledges the “voices” and “sounds” of the medical condition, the “movements” are there, of the Agency beginning to realize less-than-acceptable performance; of using too much SL or extending one’s FMLA and remaining on LWOP; and while no one may say anything, the rumblings of Agency harassment and impending termination may be just around the corner.

Filing for Federal Disability Retirement is the next logical step in this extravagant setting of life’s silent opera, where even the main actors are no longer interested in whether the audience hears your voice or not.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: Life’s Repertoire

It is one thing to have a stock of memorized pieces or performances from which one can reach back and employ, like an inventory of dusty artifacts which can be brought out for display upon request; quite another, however, to reveal it, dust off the residue, begin to showcase it, then be interrupted and, without missing a beat, to ad lib above and beyond the prepared piece.  The tape recorder (does anyone even remember what that contraption is or was, in this digital age?), the CD, the digital device; once set, it can only be altered by enforced remixing.

The human being, however, can adapt and respond according to the vicissitudes of changing and demanding circumstances.  The best jazz musicians are the ones who can go with the flow, and change from the vast spectrum of rising keys and notes in the flash of a feeling; as the blare of the trumpet, the sax or the flugelhorn rhythmically calls upon the beat of the drummer.  It is, in the end, the repertoire which we carry, from which we can wander; without the inventory left in reserve, we would have nothing to start with.  In life, we rely upon that repertoire to carry us forward each day.

For the Federal employee or the U.S. Postal worker who becomes beset with a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to interrupt one’s stock of daily routines, filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal worker is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, becomes an important part of that inventory.  Yes, it is an inventory of change, a repertoire of alterations; and some ad libbing must be engaged; but much of life’s repertoire has been unusable, anyway, and the forced alterations may stretch one’s limitations, but rarely break.  Procrastination, avoidance, neglect and suppression of the inevitable — they are never the stock and trade of the best of jazz musicians.

Rare is the Federal or Postal employee who is also an accomplished jazz musician; but in the privacy of one’s home, the Federal or Postal employee who is forced to consider preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM because of an interruption from a medical condition, is one who must ultimately toot his own horn, in his own time, and in his own unique way, whether forced or not, and to reach back from the vast repertoire of life in facing the challenges in confronting a medical condition both unexpected and unwanted, but there anyway, as another obstacle to overcome in this thing we call a journey of life.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Employee Disability Retirement: An Expectation of Disaster

Most lives are lived with an expectation of unease; if things are going smoothly, we look with suspicion at what will come from around the corner; if calm and quietude prevails, we consider it merely a precursor to a major storm; and if good fortune comes our way, there is a leeriness as to the strings attached.

Perhaps distrust is based upon justifiable historical events; or, as news is merely the compilation of tragic events gathered into a compendium of daily interests, so our skewed perspective of the world merely reinforces what our childhoods entertained.  With a foundation of such natural tendencies to see the world with suspicion, when a medical condition impacts a person, the expectation of crisis is only exponentially magnified.

Suddenly, everyone becomes the enemy, and not just the few who are known to lack heart; and actions which were previously normative, becomes a basis for paranoia.  Chronic pain diminishes tolerance for human folly; depression merely enhances the despair when others engage in actions betraying empathy; and the disaster which was suspected to be just around the corner, closes in on us when pain medications fail to palliatively alleviate.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to prevent one from performing all of the essential elements of one’s job, the bifurcation between the personal and the professional, between play and work, often comes crumbling down upon us, and signs of potential trouble portend to indicate to us that it may be time to “move on”.  That impending sense of doom?  It may be upon us.  That calm before the storm?  The reality of what the agency is contemplating may prove you right. And the potential loss of good fortune?

Agencies are not known for their patience.  For the Federal or Postal employee who is no longer one of the “good old boys” of the network of productive employees because of a medical condition which is beginning to impact one’s ability to maintain a daily work schedule, or perform at the level prior to the onset of a medical condition, consideration should be given to preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether one is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

Time is often of the essence, and while most expectations of impending disasters are unfounded, the behavior of Federal agencies and the U.S. Postal Service can never be relied upon, any more than the weather can be predicted a day in advance.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Postal & Federal Medical Retirement: To Shelve a Book

Even with one penny, this book would be overpriced. When your health and well-being are at stake, it’s time to write a new chapter of your life with Federal and Postal Disability Retirement

It is an act of finality; a sense of resignation pervades when a book which one treasured is placed on a shelf.  One may deceive oneself that it can always be retrieved at some future, unknown and unspecified date, but in a world where the bombardment of newness and the constancy of moving on to the “next” thing dominates, the chances are that the act of shelving will constitute the gathering of dust in corners where forgotten memories will atrophy with cobwebs of deliberative disregard.

The alternative is to keep a stack of books and allow the unsteady tower of irregular and awkward dimensions teeter on the brink of collapse; but even there, as others pile onto the freshness of that distant reading, crushing out the life of passages memorized in moments of distracted concentration, it is the act of shelving which marks a critical juncture of terminal finality.  As with things in the mind, so in the physical world, we must force ourselves to take that step, despite the knowing frailty of life in compartmentalized forms.

Filing for Federal & Postal Disability Retirement benefits has that similitude of sense to it; to initiate the process is to acknowledge the necessity of leaving behind an image, a career, a routine, a life that once was, is forever changing, and ever losing its comfort of static monotony.  For Federal employees who must file for Federal & Postal Medical Retirement benefits, whether the Federal worker is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the act itself of initiating the administrative process is to shelve a meaningful career full of accomplishments, accolades and activities of astronomical admiration; but there comes a moment when time, space and necessity coalesce to compel, and medical conditions tend to do that.

And like the book which is shelved upon reaching the last chapter of resonance, the feeling of a whispering breeze blowing lazily across the meadows of a past life reverberate, as the quiet sound of an exiting murmur echoes in the hollows of necessity; yes, life requires the shelving of books and other things, as does life itself.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal & Postal Medical Retirement: The Beast of Burden

Is there a limit to the capacity for a draught animal that engages in the heavy toil so assigned?  Like the proverbial reed of hay which breaks the camel’s back, what is the limit, the absolute capacity, the outer stretches of what the psyche can absorb, the ultimate strain upon the human physical endurance and the will to survive; until the beast of burden crumples upon an exhausted heap of fatigue and loss of hope, a broken mass of bones, organic matter and mindless assemblage of shattered void?

Is that not how one sometimes feels, when the strains of daily toil aggregate to such an extent that stress is no longer merely an acceptable medium of daily work, and information is no longer a tidbit of enlightening accentuation; rather, too much means that the system is overloaded, beyond the acceptable parameters of mere survivability, and enters into the unknown universe of meltdowns and nuclear fissions.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition prevents one from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s job, the feeling that the balance of life which was so delicately maintained throughout one’s career, can come careening down an uncontrollable chasm of chaos, when once the medical condition becomes that proverbial piece of hay upon the beast’s back.

Federal Disability Retirement benefits are not just an “out” for the faint-hearted; rather, it is part of the compensation package which all Federal and Postal workers are accorded, whether you are under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.  Federal Disability Retirement is a benefit which is filed (ultimately) through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, and it is not one’s own agency which makes the determination of approval or denial.

For some, it is the only solution remaining; for others, it may be a godsend; for all, it is merely a benefit which allows the Federal and Postal worker who finally recognizes that priorities in life must include, first and foremost, attending to one’s health and well-being, to actually effectuate the balance of life once maintained, but temporarily lost.

For, in the end, while we all like to think that the beast of burden is some mythical creature on a farmer’s pasture in a foreign land, it is often the one who imagines that about the “other”, who is the subject of toil; one needs to merely look in the mirror on a morning when time, stress and stretching of tolerance exceeds the point of no return, and realize that the beast of burden is the one with eyes looking back at you.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire