When I was under federal investigation, I wanted a shortcut. I kept hoping something—anything—would spare me from prison. But all the hoping in the world didn’t matter when I stood in front of a judge with nothing to show for it.
If you’re facing healthcare fraud charges—or any federal charges, really—let me be blunt: waiting is a mistake. Hoping is a mistake. Thinking someone will fix this for you is a mistake. What changes your outcome is what you do starting right now.
Here’s how I learned that the hard way—and what I now teach the people who come to me for help.
Mitigation Isn’t a Concept—It’s a Plan of Action
When I talk about mitigation, I’m not talking about a buzzword. I’m talking about a strategy with four parts:
- Define what success means to you. It’s not just “less prison time.” For some, it’s repairing relationships. For others, it’s showing your kids you’re still someone they can be proud of. Be honest about what matters most.
- Build an action plan. Don’t wait for your lawyer to do this. That plan might include writing a statement, making restitution, starting community work, or getting a job if you’re able.
- Control what you can. You can’t undo the crime. You can’t rewrite the past. But you can start showing who you are now through daily, measurable actions.
- Repeat. Every day. Mitigation isn’t about doing one impressive thing. It’s about consistency. Judges—and prosecutors—care more about a boring, steady commitment than one dramatic gesture.
When I went through this process myself, I was lucky to have guidance. My business partner, Michael Santos, who served 26 years in prison, told me something that stuck: “The government already knows what you did. What they don’t know is who you are now.”
Real Example: What Happens When You Don’t Act Early
A recent case caught my eye: Gregory Schreck. He pleaded guilty to healthcare fraud. Now he’s waiting to be sentenced. If he hasn’t already started his mitigation efforts, he’s behind.
Once you plead guilty, the race to show change has already started. You don’t get a second chance to explain your character to a judge. I’ve seen people lose months because they waited for their lawyer to “handle everything.”
Let me be clear: mitigation isn’t your lawyer’s job. It’s yours.
Independent Thinking Is a Must
In prison, I saw the same thing over and over: guys who gave up their decision-making power to lawyers, counselors, or cellmates. They outsourced their future. I almost did, too.
Then I watched Michael. He didn’t play the role the system expected. He didn’t whine. He read, wrote, built a plan—and acted on it. That changed my perspective.
Here’s what I tell people now:
- Listen to experts. But don’t blindly follow anyone—not even me. Ask questions. Weigh risks. Own the choices.
- Identify key stakeholders. Who are the people that matter in your case? The judge. The probation officer. The prosecutor. Maybe even former clients or business partners. What will they see if they look at your life today?
- Prove it. Words don’t matter. Action does. Show you’re more than the charges on the indictment.
You Can’t Talk About Redemption Without Talking About Harm
I used to be obsessed with how I was affected. Prison. Shame. Career gone. I didn’t think about who I hurt. Until Michael asked, “Who paid the price for your actions?”
That was a gut punch.
If you’re facing healthcare fraud charges, it’s not just a line item on a budget. People may have lost access to care. Systems were strained. Taxpayer trust was damaged. If you want to earn redemption, you have to acknowledge harm—and take steps to repair it.
Here are a few ways to do that:
- Write letters. Not to the judge—to the people you impacted. Even if you never send them, it forces accountability.
- Volunteer in areas tied to the damage. Medical fraud? Consider giving time or resources to clinics or nonprofits working in underserved areas.
- Educate others. You don’t have to go public. But share your story with others in private circles so they learn from your mistake.
Where to Start When You’re Overwhelmed
You might be thinking, “This is too much. I don’t even know where to begin.” That’s exactly how I felt. So here’s where I tell people to start:
- Accept reality. You’re not getting out of this by ignoring it.
- Start tracking your efforts. Document everything: service hours, therapy, employment, restitution payments, letters you write. Judges care about proof.
- Get guidance, but don’t delegate. Work with mentors, coaches, or others who’ve lived it—but remember, it’s your responsibility.
Final Thought: You Only Get One Shot at Sentencing
Judges are smart. They can tell if you’re faking it. They’ve seen hundreds of defendants say “I’m sorry” without changing a thing.
If all you bring to court is a written apology and a few character letters, you’re gambling with your future. And I’ve seen too many people lose that bet.
Don’t let that be you.
Justin Paperny
P. S. You don’t need to figure this out alone. Join our free Monday webinar at 1 p.m. Pacific. We break down what works, what backfires, and what you should do before it’s too late. Bring questions, take notes, and take control.
