By Lindsay Tice,Staff Writer

LEWISTON – Terry Green expected the worst.

The retired nurse walked into The Medicine Shoppe with a folder filled with Medicare Part D paperwork, cards and brochures. She was, somehow, enrolled in two drug plans, and she had the letters to prove it.

But if her name wasn’t in the grand Medicare computer system, none of that would matter. She couldn’t get her new drug benefit.

And Tuesday it seemed like most Mainers weren’t in the computer system.

“I think it’s ridiculous,” said Green, 69, as she anxiously waited for the pharmacy to confirm – or deny – her drug plan membership. “There are so many people who are not going to take any medications now because they can’t afford it.”

On Sunday, the first day of the federal government’s new drug program for seniors and the disabled, the state received about 1,000 calls from concerned pharmacists and distressed customers. By Tuesday afternoon, it was on track to receive 15,000.

Thousands of Mainers went to fill a prescription and were told they weren’t enrolled in a plan, even though they had proof they were.

Some were told they had a plan but it didn’t cover insulin or other drugs they needed to live.

Others got a plan and their drugs, but were charged $100 when they expected a $1 co-pay.

The state held an emergency conference call with pharmacists on Tuesday. The governor told them to fill all prescriptions. Customers would get a 30-day supply of medication, paid under their old prescription plan, if they weren’t in the Medicare computer system.

“There are poor, sick people and they’re leaving (their pharmacies) without their drugs. That’s something we can’t let happen,” said Jude Walsh, who heads up prescription drug programs in the Governor’s Office of Health Policy and Finance.

She blamed the situation on federal computer problems. A federal spokeswoman said there were “various issues.”

“We’re in route to identifying specific problems,” said Roseanne Pawelec, spokeswoman for the Boston-area Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, which is part of the Department of Health and Human Services.

Local pharmacists called the situation a “disaster.” They felt trapped between an unyielding computer system and upset customers who needed their medications.

At The Medicine Shoppe in Lewiston, a half dozen workers scrambled to deal with customers, call Medicare hot lines and fill prescriptions. Pharmacist and owner Moe Paradis sat in on the state’s conference call, but dropped out to handle the onslaught of frustrated customers.

“I had to get out. I had to do some work. It’s a nightmare,” he said.

Maurice Guay was one of those customers. He and his wife signed up for a new drug program on Dec. 13. When they didn’t get a prescription card in the mail, he started calling Medicare hot lines.

Guay thought everything was all straightened out when he walked into the pharmacy Tuesday. But when the pharmacist looked, the computer system didn’t list him. Officially, he wasn’t part of Medicare Part D.

Expecting low co-pays, he’d planned to buy medications for both he and his wife. But since he wasn’t in the system, the drugs would have cost him $150, the price under his old prescription plan.

He couldn’t afford that Tuesday. He bought only hers.

“I don’t know what the problem is,” he said. “It’s the government’s fault, my opinion.”

A few minutes later, Terry Green walked in with her folder full of Medicare paperwork. She’d gotten a card in the mail for one plan. Then, more recently, another card for another plan.

“I’ve got all the cards and the letters,” she told Office Manager Ann Loudermilk.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean anything today,” Loudermilk said unhappily.

Green sat down while Loudermilk checked her status. A retired nurse who gets just $7,000 from Social Security, Green had been spending about $20 a month, or $2.50 for each of eight medications. That was with help from the state’s MaineCare.

Her new drug plans promised co-pays of $1 to $3 each.

“If I have to pay more I can’t afford it,” she said.

When Loudermilk returned, Green was waiting for the worst.

She got the best.

“You’re one of the lucky ones today!” Loudermilk said. “A one dollar co-pay.”

One of Green’s prescription cards had gone though. She was one of the few customers in the system.

“Phew, what a relief,” Green said. She paused to wipe her eye. “I want to cry now.”