FERS Disability Retirement: Patterns of existence

If you live long enough, you begin to see the patterns of existence; and, perhaps, that is why cynicism begins to creep into the lives of the older generation.  When you have “seen it all”, does the shadow which looms upon the radiance of a midday smile begin to fade with the vestiges of dark clouds approaching?

The repetition of vacuous words emitted from the caverns of a politician’s mouth; the crime waves that never seem to relent no matter the spectrum of punishment versus economic investment; the inflationary impact upon the valuation of monetary policy; and the general rule that, for the most part, tomorrow will be no different than today, and today is the measure to determine the memories of yesterday.

Is there really a “pattern” that comes about every 50, 70, or 100 years?  Many of us may live to witness such patterns if it is the first in the tripartite sequence of numbers — but does twice in witnessing constitute a “pattern”, per se?

Say you saw that X happened when first you became aware of your surroundings after birth; and 50 years later, you saw the same, or “similar” occurrence; does that constitute a “pattern”, or is it merely what Hume contended, that the mere fact of B following upon A does not constitute causality, but merely a coincidence of happenstance of one occurring after the other because there is no “necessary connection” between A and B.  Or, is it that we attribute patterns of existence because we ourselves reside in such repetitive monotony based upon expectations that the room we exited from will still exist in fairly the same way as we left it upon returning to it — vestiges of Berkeley’s idealism and definition of “existence” wedded to perceptual departure?

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 his or her position with the Federal Government or U.S. Postal Service, FERS Disability Retirement should be an option to consider.

Just remember, however, the “rules” governing the patterns of existence: Don’t ever think that such a bureaucratic procedure can be easily maneuvered through; don’t presume that your case is an “easy” one; and don’t believe everything that your Human Resource Office, your Supervisor or even your “best friend at work” is going to tell you everything you need to know.  To do so would be to violate the first rule in the patterns of existence: Things are always more complicated than they seem.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

Medical Retirement for Federal Employees: The mouse in the night

They are heard and often unseen; a scratch somewhere from the far corner of the room; a blur along the space between the couch and the wall; and the mouse in the night scurries along, making some amount of noise more greatly enhanced when the quietude of a late evening descends upon us.

Should we put out a mouse trap?  The problem with that is that the dogs might come down in the middle of the night, smell the cheese and get his nose trapped and yowl with pain, waking everyone up.  Or, hope that the mouse in the night minds his own business, scurries about without anyone noticing, and we can all pretend “as if” he doesn’t live in the same house as you do.

Like spiders, centipedes and other crawlers, the mouse in the night is there, has been, and perhaps always will be; we only try and rid the home of it when we hear it and it becomes bothersome.  That’s how we often treat medical conditions, kids who are nuisances, and neighbors who are irritants – we attend to them only when they reach beyond a level of tolerance or a spectrum of acceptability, and then it is often too late.

When does “not yet” and “too late”, or almost too late meet on the spectrum of provocation?  Does the mouse in the night become the provocateur merely because we hear him and imagine the slow but steady destruction he imposes, or the danger of the wife or daughter in the house who may scream suddenly (or is that being sexist to think that only the female gender will react in such a way)?

The mouse in the night is very much like a medical condition, where it comes and slowly steals one’s energy, eats away at the energy one has stored, and scurries along the contours of the walls in a blur of running confusion.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who need to now consider preparing 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, the sudden realization that there is a connection between the medical condition and the slow deterioration of one’s ability to perform all of the essential elements of the job can be likened to the mouse in the night – you always knew it was there and that it was slowly eating away, if not by the noise, then by ignoring its presence; you just kept putting it out of your mind because of those “other reasons”, like the trouble it takes, the fact of facing up to it, the avoidance, and maybe even the hope that it would just go away.

But neither mice nor medical conditions go away, but remain as problems that keep gnawing until the hole in the wall becomes too large to ignore.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement from Federal Government Employment: Chekhov’s gun

It is the ultimate principle of substantive minimalism, where extraneous and peripheral elements should be eradicated unless used, essential, or otherwise central to the narrative.  Teasing merely for the sake of itself is denied; a serious venture if always pursued, and open honesty with the audience forever relied upon.  Chekhov disdained and avoided the superfluous; his short stories and other works were paradigms of linguistic economy, where words were valued and cherished, without room left for an unused element.

Compare that to modernity; of Franzen and works where volumes are spoken to merely illustrate a simple point contrary to Ockham’s razor.  The “gun”, as the metaphor of utility or otherwise, first introduced in the first chapter or Scene I of a play, must by a few chapters hence or a scene or two later, be fired, pointed or struggled over; otherwise, never introduce it in the first place.  And of the razor of rational argumentation, the lex parsimoniae of scientific observation, let not human complexity and self-delusions of grandeur in constructing untenable principles of convoluted thought-processes cloud the simplicity of nature’s design; for, in the end, it is in the simple that complexity finds its apex, and of the complex, where simpletons gather.

In the end, economy of words allows for room of thought and invitations of acceptance; it is only in the crowded gallows of condemned men where cries for space echo into the chambers of unheard cries.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are in the 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, the principle of Chekhov’s gun, or its correlative paradigm of linguistic economy, Ockham’s razor, should always be applied:  Keep to the centrality of one’s narrative, and never allow the teasing of an unloaded gun direct the masthead of a sinking ship to tip too perilously towards the unforgiving winds of want and self-importance.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement: Limbo Eruptions

Of certain politicians, it has become commonplace to expect such occurrences, but with a slight change in consonants in the first word.  As it stands, however, the word as left alone is a state of another kind; not of relational states of erotic ecstasy, but rather a border on the region of heaven or hell, where an intermediate state of oblivion exists in a transitional state of suspension.  To that extent, perhaps the two concepts are similar.

Such eruptions of inactivity and suspension are intangible and untenable; human beings, by nature, are vibrant beings constantly “on the move“, and wanting always to advance, progress and contribute to the aggregation of societal cauldron of accomplishments.  That is why, when a Federal employee or a U.S. Postal worker finds him or herself in a state of rancid and stale waters, where a medical condition paralyzes any progress and prevents the Federal or Postal employee from performing the requisite and essential elements of one’s Federal position, it is tantamount to experiencing a limbo eruption.

How long it lasts; to what extent it freezes; and when it will end; these are questions which only the paramour of time would know; and the bed which is being made is the price of warmth or cold one must endure if the Federal or Postal employee insists upon staying in that relationship.  For, like the “other” such similar-sounding concept, the limbo eruption can become a permanent feature of one’s transitional state, unless one files for Federal OPM Disability Retirement benefits under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

Federal Disability Retirement is not only an option, but a benefit one can fight for, if one meets all of the eligibility criteria as revealed in the Federal Disability Retirement laws governing the state of affairs.

Filing it may seem easy; obtaining it is not so easily accomplished; securing it for one’s future can sometimes be daunting.  But like the illicit eruptions which are sure to come for unnamed but otherwise well-known individuals, the limbo eruption of the Federal or Postal employee who suffers from a medical condition, such that the medical condition prevents one from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal positional duties, must surely be overcome, lest the bed made is suddenly discovered by the jealous spouse who suspects more than a mere hug in the middle of the night.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal & Postal Employee’s OPM Medical Retirement: Disjointed Lives and Divergent Paths

Life brings with it anomalies and conundrums which make for bumpy rides.  Despite protestations to the contrary, the older we get, the more we seek repetition, thoughtless inaction and monotony of purpose.

Change is for youth; otherwise, why does the parapet of innovation occur (with some minor exceptions) within the fertile mind of those in early adulthood?  Technological discoveries and scientific breakthroughs are formulated within the first third of life; managing a staid environment is left for the second third; and in the final slice of the corrupted remains, we expect quietude and unobtrusive solitude.

Medical conditions tend to disrupt and destroy.  Where once the agency or the U.S. Postal Service enjoyed concurrent and parallel lives with the “productive” Federal or Postal worker, the introduction of a medical condition impacting upon one’s capacity and ability to perform “efficient service” for the Federal agency or the U.S. Postal Service, comes into doubt, and it is precisely within the context of the disjointed teleology of intended purposes, that the divergence of paths must take its course.

Fortunately, the Federal system of compensation has preemptively considered such a scenario — by offering Federal Disability Retirement benefits for Federal and Postal employees under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.  Federal and Postal employees who are no longer able to perform one or more of the essential elements of one’s positionally-required duties, as delineated and described in the official PD of one’s job, have the option of filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits.

Ultimately, such a Federal Disability Retirement application must be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management — through one’s agency, if one is still on the rolls of the agency or the U.S. Postal Service, or separated but not for more than 31 days; or, directly to OPM if the Federal or Postal employee has been separated for more than 31 days.

In the end, it is not the disjointed life or the divergent path which will determine the headstone of time; rather, it is the residual influences we leave and heave upon the next generation of confused minds which will make a difference, and whether the staid quietude we seek in the sunset of generational transfer of responsibilities can allow for another alteration of paths, as one who decided to create a new trail by following Frost’s road not taken.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire