Federal & Postal Disability Retirement: The Photograph of Yourself

There is something different that occurs when a person sees a photograph of him/herself.  Of seeing a stranger, there is little that is stirred; of a friend, perhaps a slight nudge; of family members, parents, siblings — past memories come alive, scents are sharpened, the context of the photograph is yearned for.

Then, the encounter with the self — of a former image, a vestige, a residue; and of memories that come into focus with greater clarity.  The scent of that moment; the laughter or tears that are remembered; perhaps a mourning for that someone who was captured for a brief moment in time, bundled up into a complicated ball of emotions forgotten, a future yet unknown, and promises made and left broken.  We all yearn and mourn for what once was, what could have been, and the years which have passed by that can never be returned.

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 time before the illness, accident or onset of a medical disability is like seeing one’s own photograph of a time before: It cannot be recaptured, but only remembered.

Consult with a FERS Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law and consider filing for a benefits that allows for recuperating back somewhat to a time “before” — of that photograph of yourself.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: The mediocre medical report

One can, of course, obtain an “excellent” medical report — i.e., one that has full, unequivocal support in providing a clear diagnosis, description of symptoms, impact upon specific job functions, etc., with an unequivocal conclusion of disability beyond the specific elements of one’s job functions, etc. — and yet get denied by the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

On the other hand, one can submit with a Federal Disability Retirement application a “mediocre” medical report — e.g., one that is generalized and non-specific, and shows scant reference to specific job functions, and provides barely a conclusion of disability, and yet get an approval at the First Stage of a Federal Disability Retirement application.

So, one may ask, where is the consistency shown by the U.S. Office of Personnel Management?  Is it all a matter of perspective — of a crap shoot as to who reviews a Federal Disability Retirement application at OPM?  The fact is, there is no “perfect” methodology that will guarantee that a well-prepared Federal Disability Retirement application will be approved at the First Stage of the OPM Disability Retirement process.

However, there are certainly “chance-enhancers” — those preparatory actions that exponentially increase the probability of success at each stage of a Federal Disability Retirement process — that will help to ensure that, more likely than not (sort of like the legal standard itself — of a “preponderance of the evidence” — that is applied to a Federal Disability Retirement case), your Federal Disability Retirement application, whether you are under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, will have a successful outcome with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

First and foremost, understand the critical structure of a Federal Disability Retirement application:  The foundation of every Federal Disability Retirement application is the medical report.  It is the foundation of a Federal Disability Retirement application (otherwise referred to as an “FDR”); from it, the legal arguments arise and the justifying Applicant’s Statement of Disability are together formulated.

Thus, just as a shaky building’s foundation will likely fail to withstand even a minor earthquake or a minimal subterranean tremor, so a mediocre medical report will often decrease the chances of a First Stage FDR approval.

Are there ways to counter such mediocrity?  Yes — by pointing out other critical elements of the case. And, of course, sometimes the choices are limited, where it is better to proceed even with a mediocre medical report than not at all, and to put the best case forward regardless of the insufficiency of a mediocre medical report.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Disability Retirement for Federal Workers: The lost ball in the field

We come upon it, and it sits gleaming with partial concealment in the tall grass beyond the river’s edge.  Whose was it?  Was it a child who threw it, or a parent, grandparent, or maybe even a sibling?  Did the child search for it, or was it forgotten soon after a futile search in directions otherwise unaccounted for?

Was there a party gathered, a picnic prepared and a blanket covered upon the grassy knoll; and were gloves included in the melee?  Was there laughter rumbling through the forest beyond, slowly dissipating in voices joyfully warmth in the sunlight of mumblings incomprehensible and lost among the groves of wildlife hidden behind and beyond?  Was the chatter of children full in the morning air, or lost in the heat of a midsummer’s dream?  From a lost ball in the field, can reality be reconstructed, or are the imaginations of dreams forgotten and hopes still hinting of a future unfulfilled, forever to be a wistful memory of what could have been, was, or even might have been?

Perhaps, some over-exuberant father threw the ball and it sailed over the head of the child; the child, watching as it travels overhead, then behind, then beyond where the periphery of limits placed in a universe that has been foretold of dangers and mysteries, watches as it bounces a few times, then disappears.  Perhaps there is a shout – something like, “Sorry, Tommy…let’s go find it!”  Then, a rush and rustling of footsteps, and a made-up race to the finish line: “First one that finds it is the winner!”

Gleeful shouts and joyful shivers, even in the sunlight of warmth and happiness, because for this moment, in this slice of time, a lost ball is bound to yet be discovered, and it is merely a temporary delay in yet an incomplete day’s fun.  But the search reveals nothing; the world conceals and refuses to cough up and unravel the mysteries of hidden meanings; and after a time, further voices calling for the consumption of picnics prepared and sandwiches to be unwrapped, and the sagging shoulders of a disappointed child must needs be the focal point of a universe otherwise uncaring and impervious.

Is this what happened, or did an old codger have a ball in his back pocket, was taking a walk with his dog, and it dropped silently out and rolled into the field, leaving behind any such creative imaginings to another page, an unfinished chapter, or a novel unpublished?

Things can be created out of whole cloth, or not at all.  What we include in the narrative of our meanderings is a choice, of sorts.  The child that walked away that mid-summer day’s loss – of what sorrow did he carry, and what tales did he tell tomorrow to his friends at school?  We all carry around narratives; what we choose to relate is up to us.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are preparing SF 3112A, Applicant’s Statement of Disability, in formulating a Federal Disability Retirement application to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management – remember that, like the boy’s experience of the lost ball, the content of the narrative is important, and the delineation of the tonal quality of the facts is significant; choose with discretion the substance of the responses, lest the lost ball becomes found again, and it turns out that it was the old codger, after all, and not by the wonderment of a child’s unbelieving eyes.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Medical Retirement: The attic where useless things are kept

As a metaphor, it refers to the mind, whether because of similar spatial location or by analogy of clutter and vacuity (concepts which are not mutually exclusive, for the former does not imply knowledge, whereas the latter is a negation of it).  The common adage, “Out of sight, out of mind”, applies aptly, as it is the last refuge before it becomes refuse, but somehow is kept because a pause, an indentation, a comma extended the effort of a terminal decision.

Perhaps sentimentality pulled the strings of childhood memories, where the deep recesses of warmth and traipsing through cold streams on summer days and laughter in rolling through careless days of yore attached itself to an item too old to value but not useless enough to discard.

Memories have value, too, you know; they just don’t trumpet the monetary gains in a world devoid of feelings beyond the pocketbook.  The childhood delight of walking up into granddad’s attic, where treasures untold would unfold to the limitless imaginations of a time when entertainment knew not the computer screen nor the smartphone, but carved simplicity of flutes, toy soldiers and great battles where valor and victory filled the silent air.

Houses no longer have stairs to reach the heights of that place of refuge, where sadness would find solace in the quietude amongst dusty suitcases and wedding dresses out-of-fashion but for the beaming bride in photographs fading in crinkled corners of brown discoloration.  Now, we merely have a square entrance cut into the ceiling of the top floor.

Somehow, when stairways were erased from the architect’s mind, the disappearance of the physical means to reach that remaining refuge where loneliness entered and the quiet pitter-patter of mice and old men wandered, the timeless period of pause, peace and calm of perpetuity ceased to exist.  The pencil which erases is more than a negation of thought; it is the end of an era which valued time, relationships and the conversation muted beyond the crackling of a winter’s fire.  The attic where useless things are kept; is that why we treat each other so abominably?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, where the medical condition no longer allows for the great extent of productivity previously enjoyed — suddenly, the Federal agency and the Postal Service treats you like the refuse thrown into the attic, but with no stairway to come back down.  No accommodations are found; you are treated like the pause before the trash bin and the comma before the flush of the toilet.

That is why the option exists for the Federal or U.S. Postal employee to prepare, formulate and file for 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 or CSRS Offset.

For, in the end, while the attic is indeed the place where useless things are often kept, it is up to the Federal or Postal employee to begin constructing the staircase which was erased by the thoughtless architect who knew not the future plans for a greater tomorrow; and that is precisely why, for all of those bygone years, you kept that old wooden toboggan — to slide down that next hill where childhood memories still enliven.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Postal & Federal Employee Medical Retirement: When coincidence ignores sensitivity

What if a ‘special day‘ falls upon an unfortunate date? What if one’s birthday, for example, happens to be on 9/11, or on Christmas eve, Valentine’s day, etc?  Or, for those who strictly proscribe the Sabbath Day, what happens if one’s birthday happens to fall coincidentally upon the concurrent segment of solemnity?  Does one set aside the significance of the unfortunate date, and celebrate that special day as if the former is an irrelevancy, trumped by the latter?

Is that what others tend to do, but somehow — when properly reminded — suddenly awaken from the stupor of perversity, shake off the sober face of grimaces and furrowed brows, and begin celebrations in earnest with painted faces and balloons of joy?  Can we turn it on and off like a button switch, reminded of smiles with saddened eyes and inverted to frowns with the window’s soul full of happiness?  Certainly, some presidents (unnamed, of course) have been able to do that; but for the ordinary actor upon the stage of life, are we able to perform with such aplomb?

Of course, people with medical conditions experience that encounter often, and no more so than Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition which prevents them from performing the essential elements of one’s positional duties with the Federal agency and the U.S. Postal Service.

For Federal and Postal employees who suffer from a medical condition, each day where the Federal or Postal employee can come into work and be productive is a ‘special day’; but because of the reputation which has already grown, and the whispers and gossip which have been imparted like a trailing cloud of dust surrounding Pig-Pen in the Peanuts comic strip, the furrowed brows and grim faces of solemnity abound, still making it into an unfortunate event.

Full well does the Federal employee and the U.S. Postal worker know, of that which we speak; where every special day is still an unfortunate event, and the coincidence of being pain-free or otherwise without debilitating symptoms of the medical condition can somehow be ignored with lack of sensitivity by everyone around.

But, then, this is a daily and common occurrence for the Federal and Postal employee who must endure the sufferings of both the medical condition itself as well as the constant harassment from the Federal Agency and the the U.S. Postal Service; and that is why 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, becomes an important event — one which could potentially turn that unfortunate condition into an otherwise special day, once the OPM Disability Retirement application is approved and the Federal or Postal worker can ‘move on’ where coincidence is no longer ignored by sensitivity.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: Beyond the Pablum of Life

Once a cereal brand, a glob of mush whose nutritional content was suspect at best, and the bland taste of which represented the monotony of modernity; now, it is mere pap, where the lack of substantive content belies the true nature of harm, insipid and incremental, creeping daily and slowly deteriorating.

Isn’t that how a medical condition destroys?  Yes, there are traumatic events — where loss of limb and even of life suddenly cuts short the vibrancy of a human narrative; but, mostly, it is that chronic, slow deterioration which eats away and the luster of living loses its sheen where being free of pain or anguish is the highlight of one’s linear form.  That is when life becomes a daily pablum of concocted innuendoes, where euphemisms prevail and the hidden struggle of daily toil results in the blandness of hourly refuting the refrain, “So, how is life?”

When trepidation and hesitation rules the day the ruing the day becomes the pablum of living, like the tablet and chalkboard which has been overused and the residue of erasures remains no matter how hard we try and scuff them out, then it is time to consider a change of venue, of volatility, and of value.

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 positional duties, it may be time to try and get beyond the pablum of life’s misgivings.

Yes, 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, may be a difficult path to take, especially in light of leaving behind a list of accomplishments, awards and accolades; but if the choice of staying and being harassed, intimidated, constantly put down and shoved aside are no longer clear indicators of a future unwelcome and unwelcoming, then there can be no better alternative to embrace.

Filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM can be an administrative and bureaucratic nightmare; but where the flashpoint of one’s Federal or Postal career has long passed, it is time to consider getting beyond the pablum of life, and to formulate a strategy where the vibrancy of a once-promising future takes on the sheen now lost, the energy long depleted, and the recovery of which guides one towards a better tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire