OPM Medical Retirement: The Cousin: The Stifled Yawn

The more you try, the harder it is to keep it concealed.  You may not even be tired.  You may have had a good night’s sleep; but “the yawn” is interpreted in one of two ways: Either you are tired, or you are bored.

And in the situation you are in, either interpretation would not be acceptable.

And so you attempt to stifle it; sit up straighter; widen your eyes; take a deep breath; act as if you are stretching your neck, first to the left, then to the right.  But the more you try and stifle the yawn, the greater the hardship and it is as if there is an involuntary force emanating from within.

Life itself is like that.  You struggle, you try, you do everything to “stifle” the problem; but instead of going away, “it” keeps looming larger.  Medical issues tend to work that way; for, whether you actively go and get treatment for the health condition, the chronic and progressive nature of the medical condition seems to loom larger.

For Federal Gov. 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 basic elements of one’s Federal or Postal Service job, the vicious cycle of the “catch-22” keeps coming back: the more you attempt to work, the greater the stress upon your medical condition and the exacerbating side effects.

When you have come to a critical juncture in your chronic medical condition where it becomes like the stifled yawn which will not be suppressed or repressed, contact an disability lawyer who specializes in OPM Disability Retirement Law, and let not the stifled yawn turn into a sudden crisis where life’s dominance of difficulties begins to loom to large.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill

Lawyer exclusively representing Federal and Postal employees to secure their Federal Disability Retirement benefits under FERS from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

 

Federal Disability Retirement: The Strange Mixture

It is, indeed, strange.  What is it about Man — neither can he run as fast as other animals; nor does he have the brute strength to dominate the other; but he has the cunning to lay traps, to create diversions, and to possess the strange mixture of God and Brute.  It is that strange mixture which makes for uniqueness — of never a pure predator, for empathy and kindness can make him pause before hunger (or greed) leads to extinction of another species.

We have created civilizations which span the earth and beyond, and in the process, have destroyed the fern and fauna necessary for the survival of other species; and yet, we pause with regret, and make some feeble attempts to preserve and conserve.  We are a strange admixture — of brash and self-doubt, of the exclamation point, and the comma to pause.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a debilitating 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, that strange mixture is the chemical balance which compels survival, and preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits under FERS is what will result in the aggressive, dominant side of you to get through this bureaucratic conundrum of the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, under FERS.

Contact a Federal Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law and see whether or not preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application under FERS, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, may endeavor you to fulfill the promise of potentiality residing in the strange admixture of God and Brute.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill
Lawyer exclusively representing Federal and Postal employees to secure their Federal Disability Retirement benefits under FERS from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

 

Federal & Postal Disability Retirement: Of What We Do

It is the pause that a comma compels, a reflective moment which a period forces upon us.  There are times in life when we pause or stop, and we ask ourselves: What is all of this for?  Why are we doing it?  What is the purpose of it all?

At some point in our lives, we became automatons in the pursuit of just maintaining the life which we have chosen.  Throughout, there were multiple proverbial “forks in the road” — After high school, we could have done X instead of Y; after college, A was a choice, but instead we went with B; and each step of the way, we failed to ask the question: Of what we do, what is the purpose and why am I doing it?

And then, beyond the fork of that road which we have chosen, life takes us along a treadmill of which we have no idea where the on/off switch is located.  But there are moments when the pause button suddenly appears, or the period ends the sentence and the last sentence completes the paragraph and we ask: Of What We Do, What is the purpose?  Medical conditions tend to do that.

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, the question “Of What We Do” becomes relevant because, in the end, is it worth sacrificing one’s health?

Contact an OPM Disability Attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law and consider filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

FERS Employees with Disabilities: Implicit and Explicit

Say a person is playing golf, hits the ball badly and yells out loudly, “Fore!”  In his mind, however, the individual has the word spelled wrongly — say, as “Four” or “For”, or any number of alternative ways.  When first heard, he had thought that it was spelled in the commonplace, conventional way.  Does it matter?  Doesn’t the fact that homophones exist become an issue of “right” or “wrong” only if the implicit clashes with the explicit? (What a terribly and awkwardly stated question).

Homophones not only “sound” the same, but may also be spelled differently.  They are in the “family” of homonyms because they sound alike but have different meanings; similarly, there are words that also sound the same, are spelled the same, but have different meanings, as in: “She rose from her seated position to smell the rose.”  Here again, what if the person repeated the sentence but thought that the first “rose” was somehow referring to the flower while the second rose concerned the manner of posture (if such transfer of meanings is even possible) — would it make a difference?

The “implicit” world of understanding encapsulates the privacy of our insular world; the “explicit” brings forth and unveils that previously-unrevealed universe, and tests it against the objective world of contending ideas.  It is somewhat akin to pain — that subjective phenomena which may or may not be capable of being ascertained, verified or confirmed by diagnostic testing or reactive muscle spasms.

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, it becomes necessary to make the “implicit” explicit in order to qualify for Federal Disability Retirement benefits.  Gathering the necessary information in order to formulate properly one’s Federal Disability Retirement case is to make explicit that which may have remained deliberately implicit.

That is where consultation with an experienced attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law becomes crucial in properly making explicit that which remained implicit, in order to “test” the viability of a very private and confidential matter.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Federal Disability Retirement: The difficult good-bye

It is always difficult to say good-bye.  Whether of a long duration, or with a quick ending to an already fast-deteriorating relationship, the good-bye that brings sorrow, tears and a sense of unease is the one that once was never thought of.

Separating from loved ones; the end of a stay that may have begun with trepidation, hesitation or even loathing, but which turned out to be an embracing of past memories forgotten, revitalizing conversations and enlivening moments of collective reflections; or even of a chance encounter with someone, or with the lengthy last moments with a bedridden relative who wants the warmth of human contact nearby before departing into the netherworld through gates of wandering souls.

Whatever the circumstances, the good-byes we fear, the ones we think will be a relief, and even those that turned out to end merely with a half-hearted wave of the hand — it is the difficult good-bye that echoes within the hollow of one’s mind, squeezing between schedules full and memories touching upon a conscience that will not abide.

Careers have good-byes, as well, and not just between people; for it is the career that defines so much of who we are.  It is never just the “what do you do for a living” part of it, but the title that comes with it, the identity that is attached to it, the camaraderie that accompanies it and the past memories that haunt one; these are the cementing tributaries that form one’s personhood.

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, whether under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the difficult good-bye is the one that separates the Federal or Postal employee from the Federal Agency or the Postal Facility — not necessarily because of the circumstances compelled by the medical conditions themselves (although that is admittedly difficult enough), but often because the job itself was and has been an integral part of one’s life, livelihood and identity, and because any change in one’s routine is hard enough.

Filing a Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, is essentially saying good-bye to a good chunk of one’s daily routine of life and living — of spending about 50% or more of one’s life (including preparing for the day, commuting, doing work-related emails and similar activities, etc.) — and thus will be, even under the best of circumstances, a difficult separation and departing.

But always remember that the difficult good-bye is the one that retains an abiding meaningfulness within the souls of worthwhile characters, which then forms the seeds of hope for a future yet untold, as opposed to the half-hearted wave of the hand that dismisses so casually that we remember not even which hand with which we waved good-bye.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement under FERS & CSRS: Transformations

It is a grand concept, a larger-than-life idea and often referred to in the context of a personal “Ah-ha” moment; of transformations, we hear often enough the talk of schemes to overturn, uproot, change, alter, do a complete make-over and revolutionize this or that.

In politics, we hear about this or that “transformational” figure; of new inventions, that it will “transform” the way in which we live; and of personal moments of lives that need to be or otherwise require change, we learn that this or that person was “transformed” by this or that experience.

The truth is, there is rarely an event the lives up to the boast or infamy of such a concept, and the reason is quite simple.  Just as in life itself, the organic changes that occur in nature – of the Darwinian foundation based upon the survival of the fittest mechanism – do so in subtle, slow and incremental, mostly imperceptible ways.  Nature does not favor transformations on a grand scale; it instead cautiously approaches slight and moderate alterations, in slow and steady, incremental steps, precisely because it is weary about changing something when what has been has worked quite well, thank you.

For most people, transformations in life follow upon a parallel course and conceptual model; major overhauls are disfavored; a new route slightly altered, an addition to the family, an alteration of a minor issue, etc.  Changes of any kind can be tumultuous, precisely because regularity is what we rely upon in order to maintain a semblance of sanity within the sphere of our own influences.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to prevent the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal position, the medical condition itself can be a very unsettling, “transformational” experience.

Dealing with any deterioration of one’s health can be a traumatic event; to consider preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, can be a further event of transformational significance.

It would be nice if there was a more subtle, incremental alternative; but, sometimes in life, as unfortunate as it may be, a transformation of sorts is the only viable choice to make, and one should in such instances recognize that – whether against the tide of nature or not – one’s health should be the sole and transformational focus when considering filing for Federal Disability Retirement.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Lawyer Representation for Federal Disability Claims: “Too busy to…”

It is the accent and the inflection upon a syllable that sometimes makes all the difference.  Take the following examples:

“I am too busy to…”

“I am too busy, too.”

The extra consonant in the last word makes all the difference; for, in the former statement, if it is stated in response to a call for help, it dismisses the request by informing the other person that one is simply unable to offer any assistance.  In the latter response, the subtlety of the answer should not be overlooked.  For, it is a statement of one’s own conglomeration of activities; it is not a refusal or even a rejection of a request; rather, it merely describes the current state of parallel universes that may or may not still allow for lending a hand.  Thus:

“Hey, Jim, can you lend me a hand?”

“I am too busy to.”

(Outright rejection)

Or:

“Hey, Jim, can you lend me a hand?”

“I am too busy, too.” Nevertheless, Jim walks over and lends his assistance.

Can a single consonant make such a difference?  Without the written word, can the mere inflection, intonation and syllabic accent of a lingering “o” allow for the subtlety of differences otherwise unseen except with the written word?  Would it make a difference, if it was stated in a southern drawl, a foreign accent or in “broken English”?

When one pauses and considers the consequences of language and its effects upon discourse, it makes one pause and shudder, that even in this age of Twitter and abbreviated language compositions and the irrelevance of grammar upon our daily lives, that distinctions can still cause a difference.

Are such modulated intonations significant?  Perhaps they are rarely, if ever, “life changing” events, but nevertheless can effectuate confusion or miscommunication such that disagreements may arise.

Language is the tool of communication and the effective conveyance of thoughts and conceptual paradigms.  This is important to remember for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are considering preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

For, in the end, it is the written word that is the sword of a triumphant Federal Disability Retirement application, or the injury that defeats the same, and whether the extra consonant may make the difference depends upon the effectiveness of the rest of the application.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

Medical Retirement from the Office of Personnel Management: The soul’s net worth

What is one’s sole net worth?  In a written format, the distinction between the two concepts are quite obvious; but if in a verbal exchange, would we be able to catch that subtle distinction of nonexistent intonation?  For, the exchange of the vowel “u” in the middle of the word for an “e” attached to the tail alters the meaning of the query, does it not?

From an evaluation of one’s singular calculation – of taking the gross amounts of estimated value of possessions and purchases and subtracting outstanding debts, etc., and accounting for one’s sole net worth – not taking into consideration one’s spouse’s inheritance or assets predictably to be acquired – to a theological analysis of a particular person’s essence, is quite a modification in the very context of substantive investigations.

How do we determine the latter?  Can “assets” be exchanged for “good deeds” and “debts” for “sins committed”?  Or must we be restricted to such a theological paradigm based upon traditional perspectives of Western conventional values?

Instead, why not transform the soul’s acquired possessions for “those deeds which have advanced mankind’s happiness” and the debited side of the ledger calculated by the diminution of joys snatched and by the pounds of flesh extracted, the cups of tears compelled and the scars left for eternity’s judgment?  And, if there is to be a consequence to follow, a bifurcation between paradise and hell, a mansion with many rooms or a shanty for the mendicant, then the dervish that seeks may yet account for past deeds if the good intent revealed later in life may vanquish those miscreant motives once unfulfilled in the early days of youthful vigor.

Yet, can a soul’s net worth indeed be calculated in terms of a sole net value?  Can we use the identical mathematical method in determining such a vaunted essence of Man’s substantive Being?  If the answer is ‘no’, then why is it done each and every day, not only by others, but surely by you and I?

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 position, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS of CSRS Offset, does not the Federal Agency or the U.S. Postal Service calculate the soul’s net worth in that very manner as a determination of his or her sole net value?

That is, in essence, what a denial of a requested accommodation constitutes; it is what a judgment of termination can be deemed as, and it is precisely what is done when workplace harassment and increasing pressures to “get rid” of the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker – all of these are means of determining the soul’s net worth by the vehicle of an accounting method tantamount to the sole net value of a person.

The sad thing is, like gods, angels and unicorns held in the fancy of a child’s palm, such a calculation is not only a sin, but a travesty reflecting the darkness of our times, and but for preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, the shooting of the unicorn would occur even more frequently while ignoring the pleading cries of a child’s trembling advocacy.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement from Federal Government Employment: That big oak tree

It is the lasting image we hold onto.  On a warm, sunny day, in the carefree tapestry of a summer month, without cares or worries to haunt or ruminate by; perhaps the gentle sounds of a nearby stream and a cool breeze whispering softly the rustling leaves bright green in their early unravelling, still months away before the harsh August sun turns them into the crinkly brown of late Fall.

We dream of those times; perhaps, there never was a moment when life was without difficulties and lying beneath the shade of that big oak tree allowed for smiles of quiet content and soothing moments of careless thoughts.  But we imagine them; wish for them; embrace the idea of a time in antiquity when horse carriages were aplenty on the streets of dusty horizons, and people actually stopped on street corners and talked of things beyond the introductory inanities of, “How’s it going?” or “What’s up?”

Perhaps, beyond the weather, identifying actual names of family members, their plights and circumstances, and non-malevolent queries about Aunt Sarah and the illegitimate child she had borne in that corner house of shame where untold acts of forbidden pleasures continued to reverberate in the shadows of destitution.  No, there have always been trolls, boils and tragedies throughout time, and whether the youth in modernity espouse a greater utopia of equality and semblance, where Orwell’s prediction of totalitarianism in the destruction of forcing linguistic minimalism comes to fruition, it is the forgotten pimples which remain as the vestiges of lost reality, and the delightful dimples which we embrace to sustain sanity.

That is why that big oak tree — whether real or imagined — remains as the stalwart of memories lost and paradigms extinguished.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who yearn for a day, an hour, or just a minute of repose and reflection under that proverbial oak tree, but 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 the Federal or Postal job — it is important to hold on to the concept and hypothetical construct of that oak tree.

Preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application is a good first step; formulating a sound and solid basis to obtain an approval of a OPM Medical Retirement application is an important second step; and filing the completed Federal Disability Retirement application is a confirmation of following good advice and sound judgment, and the fruition of that necessary third step.  Then, waiting upon the U.S. Office of Personnel Management to make a positive decision — well, that is when you will need those sleepy days under that big oak tree, in order to allow for wandering thoughts and carefree summers to abide by in that long wait before OPM makes a decision.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement Pension Annuity: Today, life is good…

It is the set of 3 periods at the end of the sentence, identified in grammatical terms as an ellipses, allowing for a trailing thought or a hesitation of motive, and here which differentiates from a singular finality of a period postulated to prevent a purposive punctuality of partition from a postscript.  If the last two periods were extracted and deleted, the delineation would connote a declarative assertion, unhesitant in conclusion, and confident in execution.  With those two additions, it implies and denotes hesitancy, a pause leaving the impression of loss or lack of confidence, and unable to determine the cogency of opinion formulated but for the ellipses.

In the end, however, how is grammar tied to life itself?  Do mere additions of two dots in a sentence reflect the reality of that which we live?  Do the bundles of human complexities, emotional upheaval and physical pain, cognitive dissonance cut us off from nature’s impenetrable divide?

How often do we walk around, and stop and realize that we remember nothing about our surroundings, who we passed, what buildings we strode by, because the inner thoughts we became a hostage to allowed only for sight by the eye of our own minds, and not for the purposes attributable to all other species on the planet — for observation and judgment to determine the course of future destiny, in surviving a predatory world.

What makes us unique, but the linguistic divide that confronts us daily; and thus is it that the 3 harmless dots dangling at the terminal confinement at the end of a sentence is more than a mirage of grammatical repose; no, it defines who we are.  For, the reality of the ellipses is contained in the reflection of the truth manifested; insert an emotive adjective, and the dots disappear; yet, the changes wrought will remain beyond the grammatical addendum, the deletion of the dots, or the conversion from hesitancy to declarative assertion of utmost confidence.

It is, in the end, the “today” which is the operative word, and not the trepidation engendered by the ellipses; and it is the unstated “tomorrow” which can bring about changes to the substantive undercurrent of life beyond linguistic elasticity.  It is real life, and not grammar, which must ultimately determine destiny, fate and the whims of gods playing with human caricatures with arbitrary thunderbolts and childhood cruelty with breaths of unexpected pillars placed as obstacles within our paths.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who find that the gods of fate have placed the burden of a medical condition upon life’s lottery of challenges, the need to prepare, formulate and apply 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, becomes an encounter where the linguistic divide between life and living, on the one hand, and language and grammar, on the other, coalesce and the the chasm must by necessity be bridged.  For, it is precisely the medical condition itself (life and living) which must then be formulated into a declarative state of disability and linguistic evidentiary postulate (language and grammar), in the form of an effective OPM Disability Retirement application, that makes for the differentiation between failure or success.

Beware of the pitfalls of grammar, and note the ellipses, as well as the dangling participle, lest either unveil a true hesitancy in living, as opposed to a mere red mark from a teacher in a fictional classroom, either in one’s mind or in the eye of one’s mind.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire