What I learned studying medical fraud true crime
- Brandi Bradley
- Jul 22
- 8 min read
(I am not a book reviewer. I am a writer. I am not pretending to be a reviewer or have affiliates incentivizing me to talk about these books, series, podcasts, etc. I am consuming these materials to learn more about storytelling, character development, and the craft of writing. If you are interested in knowing what’s new, now, and exciting in books, this is not where you want to be.)
I am interested in people who fabricate.
Perhaps it’s the fiction writer in me. Perhaps it’s the result of growing up around liars. Perhaps it’s the shameless promoter I’m trying to be as an indie mystery author. Either way, when someone collapses under a house of cards they built of lies, I’m paying attention.
For the past several months I have been listening to many true crime podcasts about people who are trying to fraud their way to acclaim or riches. And because of the cyclical nature of content, the fraud of the season is – medical fraud true crime.
Medical fraud is a touchy subject for many people – likely because of the long-standing superstitions around illness. There was a time when people could not even speak the word cancer aloud, or if they did, it was in whispers (see the dinner scene in the 80s Brat Pack classic, St. Elmo’s Fire). There is a sensitivity with illness where people don’t want to pry – but have a million questions – so they don’t ask questions. People know medical bills are expensive, so they assume a person with a chronic illness needs money.
Because of all these reasons, some opportunists are taking advantage of people by claiming they have cancer and faking aspects of cancer care like treatments, medications, trauma, and money woes.
And it’s not only a cash grab. Or not always money in the most direct way. Some fake it for acclaim, attention, opportunities, and the glow of mini-celebrity.
But it’s not only cancer. I’m also seeing cases where people are manipulating medical care-givers with assumptions about mental illness, violence, and caring for those giving birth, and they will use stories of trauma to make sure they receive care. These stories are not specific to one area of the United States – in fact, they’re international. However, what they all have in common is the smoke and mirrors effect of developing digital relationships.
Here are the most recent medical fraud true crime stories I have consumed:
Scamanda – both the podcast and the TV series on Hulu. A woman manipulates an entire California community – particularly targeting her church family – in order to fund an extravagant lifestyle and be the spokesperson for cancer recovery.
Anatomy of Lies – on Peacock. A Hollywood writer pens an account of her cancer recovery and gains the attention of Queen Shonda Rhimes, and then proceeds to fake her cancer diagnosis with everyone on the show, then latch onto other national tragedies, personal tragedies, and even checks herself into a mental institution to steal the tragedies of other patients, claim them as her own, write them into Grey’s Anatomy, and even parasite her way into one fellow patient’s life. Still mad about Karev? It's this lady's fault.
Believable: The Coco Berthmann Story – A woman becomes internet-famous with her accounts of childhood sex trafficking. When her claims of a cancer diagnosis are revealed to be untrue, it calls everything she has ever said into question, including how she had specifically targeting the Mormon community in order to pull off her schemes.
The Con: Kaitlyn’s Baby – Do y’all know anything about doulas that’s not an Amy Sherman-Palladino joke? I knew nothing until I listened to this podcast. Doulas are responsible for the emotional support of the mother as she pushes this baby out of her vagina, and they assist women who are single, recovering from sexual trauma, or just don’t have a support system. This podcast was about a woman who was targeting doulas during COVID claiming to be a single pregnant mother with no support system dealing with giving birth after sexual trauma, keeping them on the phone with her for days talking her through the process. Except Kaitlyn was not pregnant. So what's the con? Taking time? Emotional manipulation? And why doulas? The questions could go on forever.
Trust, I did not listen to all of these back to back, because it’s a lot of despicable behavior. What's most fascinating to me as a writer of crime stories, which often includes frauds or people trying to be something they are not, is how it’s interesting to understand lies this big and how they grow for so long.
Here is what I learned were commonalities.
People think it’s rude to ask too many questions. I know this, because my panic response is asking questions and some friends, family and my own children have compared it to being cross-examined. My questioning, as I have learned, makes people uncomfortable. Fine. But I’m not other people. Other people are often concerned that they will be seen as prying. So, they don’t ask follow up questions. They’re friend, coworker, or person they follow online has made a confession of experiencing something horrible, and to most people that’s enough.
The average person doesn’t know a lot about medical care. I don’t know a ton, but like many Gen X’ers or Cuspers, I know a sh*t ton of nurses. And nurses love talking about gross things. If I confessed that I was having some type of cancer treatment, my childhood friend, my sister-in-law, and almost every young woman from my past would want to ask me about the specifics of my treatment to make sure I was getting treated correctly. But, an average person sees a photo of an IV or a port, they will shrug and say, “Sure. Cancer treatment.” People don’t pay too much attention when they scroll, so it’s easy to miss that the caption says one hospital but the bracelet lists a different hospital. In Anatomy of Lies, this monster taped one of the medical props to herself as if it were a port for her medication and posted photos of it online. Other cases some women used generic photos from online searches. In Scamanda, she would wander around hospitals and help herself to hospital gowns, swabs, empty vials and other medical-themed items for her online profile.
COVID allowed a lot of opportunities for frauds, cons, and abusive relationships. Because we were communicating more online or not communicating at all, online was our primary channel for connection to others, and it was easier to just believe things that you would question. And also, with people podded or bubbled with their nearest and dearest, it allowed abusers to torture their housemates, but it also exposed some of their deceits. In Anatomy of Lies, the family became more and more isolated during that time in fear that the family member still “recovering from cancer” is not exposed to further illness, however because there is no place to hide, others are suddenly noticing the absence of scarring that should have been there from the long reported cancer treatments.
Some of these fraudsters are specifically targeting religious institutions. I found this interesting. I think people do speak about institutional corruption and share stories of religious trauma or highly controlled religious organizations, but I think people are still open to trusting church members who say they are in need. Scamada perpetrated most of her schemes through a mega-church, where her testimony moved so many to give money, time, food, and other resources. (One of her stunts is inspiring a short story in my brain). Coco Berthmann targeting individuals in the Mormon community, which has become a more fertile space for fraudsters to target and law enforcement in Utah has even coined the term Mormon Fraud to be able to address instances of those taking advantage of an institution that has giving to others as part of their tenants. Even the fraudster in Anatomy of Lies latched onto a tragedy in the Jewish community writing testimony for helping at a horrific event that she was never at. Many of the church members who were defrauded speak about feelings of betrayal, which is a trauma all on it’s own.
I am now becoming more familiar with the term factitious disorder, which is the act of pretending to be sick in order to deceive others. We used to call this Muchhausen. I think factitious disorder has expanded to include cases where people are lying about other tragic life experiences or traumas (like a Sherri Pappini) in order to deceive others. The lying is not necessarily limited to illnesses. And if the purpose is for the attention of others, it always makes me wonder: why does this particular person needs so much attention? I think the diagnosis of factitious disorder becomes the quick and easy answer to other as to “why” someone does something so despicable, where, for me, it only makes me even more curious to all the contributing factors that can create this type of fraud: sociopathy, history, and the nature of digital communication.
Whenever the person is about to get caught, they fake another intense tragedy. This is also from the narcissist and abusive partner playbook. The second they feel like they are losing their grip on their mark they will: fake a car or motorcycle accident, make claims they will end their life, pass out or fake convulsions so the ambulance must be called, and more. I am also reminded of an episode of Sneaky Pete (which is now on Netflix) where the con artist explains a liar never confesses, they just double down on their lie. Scamanda claimed that her pregnancy was a miracle because the child survived chemotherapy. And people said, "Sure."
False reporting hurts everyone. Even if you are someone who always proclaims to believe people when they confess experiencing sexual trauma, discovering someone is lying about it opens a whole f*%ked up box of doubt for everyone about everything. Suddenly you don’t want to believe in people at all. And that’s why the burden of proof is in the hands of the person who experienced the trauma, which is why so many cases go unreported. And that’s the sad state of affairs. And that’s why a despicable person can make a false claim: because to them, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not – either people will believe or they won’t. If they believe you, they’ll support you and if they don’t, they won’t. That’s 50/50 odds that the con will work. And even in the case of false medical claims, the con relies on people not wanting to be the a**hole who wonders if someone is lying about the whole thing. People are actually more inclined to believe a false cancer claim because, “who would lie about something like that?” (and I really don’t want to jump into the rabbit hole of why people are disinclined to believe survivors of sexual assault even when it is true). So it means people who are needing support during their medical trauma are going to have to prove their illness is real. Every suffers here.
I have presented you a whole post of surprisingly ballsy despicable acts, and because these fraudsters have targeting spaces where people feel most vulnerable, it has ripple effects on the need to prove oneself if they are really dealing with trauma. And while I recognize social media (and COVID) allowed modern fraudsters to target and fundraise in ways that others did not question, lying and deceiving people is not new. We have new names for it and new tools for it, but lying is an incredibly old pastime. And maybe that’s where my fascination comes in, this incredibly old, almost primal tendency to reinvent has also reinvented itself in new ways.
XOXO,
B.
Be sure to check out my fiction, and one non-fiction account of different flavors of liars in the brandibradley.com shop.
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