Not in Kansas Anymore: Inside the Healing Vision of Lotus Oncology and Hematology

Just as with Dorothy when she reached the Land of Oz and said, “We’re not in Kansas anymore,”—that’s the feeling you get opening the door of Lotus Oncology and Hematology. This is not your typical doctor’s office. And that’s precisely what Dr. Roopa Gupta wants it to be. 

Forget the sterile white walls, humming fluorescents, and anxiety-inducing, plastic-seated waiting rooms. In their place: a soft gurgle from a water fountain, sunlight pouring across floor-to-ceiling floral panels, plush sofas you sink into, and earthy colors that settle the nervous system. It’s a space that lets your shoulders drop the moment you walk in.

“I wanted to create a healing environment,” Dr. Gupta says, “not just a medical one. We offer the best, most current care, but in a space that reflects dignity, beauty, and transformation.”

The name “Lotus” wasn’t a branding choice—it was personal. “The lotus blooms beautifully from murky waters,” she says. “It stands for rebirth, resilience, and rising above hard things. That’s the journey cancer patients are on. I wanted them to remember they’re not the diagnosis—they’re the flower.”

Dr. Gupta’s path to this moment started with internal medicine and then moved into oncology, though it wasn’t a straight shot. “I wasn’t sure at first,” she said. “I’m deeply sensitive—an empath—and wondered if this work would be too much to carry.” However, the more time she spent with patients, the more the work felt like home. “Every year into this field confirmed it—this is what I was meant to do.”

Lotus opened with a clear mission: treat the person, not just the illness. That starts with time—sometimes hours—for a first appointment. “It’s not just about the cancer,” she says. “It’s about what the person is carrying—what they’re afraid of, what their life looks like, what they need.”

She also brings in integrative therapies backed by research: Acupuncture, yoga, reiki, nutrition support, massage therapy, and reflexology. “Wellness Wednesdays” offers breathwork, sound therapy, and art therapy, with plans to add music, mental health support, and even pet therapy. “We’re working with people in the community to bring this all together,” Dr. Gupta says. “It’s not extra. It’s essential.”

But the heart of Lotus isn’t the services. It’s the people who fill the space with presence.

Brianna Timm, one of the nurses on staff, says the difference is immediate. “Even if someone is terrified when they walk in here, they start to feel like—okay, maybe I can do this.”

Timm would know, having worked in different kinds of healthcare settings. She said this one felt different. “They’re not just going through the motions or waiting for it to be over. They’re present. And because we’re sincere with them, they believe us when we say we’re in it with them. This becomes a healing environment. It’s not a second home, exactly—but it’s a place they feel safe.”

“I’ve seen it happen,” she adds. “The first time, someone might notice one small good thing. Next visit, they see more. And before long, this space, these people—we’re part of their journey.”

That idea—of being part of something shared—is woven into everything Lotus does. “We want patients to feel heard, seen, touched. We listen. We validate their questions. And then we move forward, together,” Dr. Gupta says.

It’s a group effort. Nurse Lindsey Corkran says, “I’m honored to be part of such a loving and supportive team. Everyone here works with genuine care and diligence to ensure each patient receives the best possible treatment. I see amazing things happen every day—for a place that handles such serious and sometimes heavy issues, there’s an incredible amount of laughter, warmth, and life here. I think it’s wonderful for our community to have Lotus as an option for their healthcare.”

Moments of joy—like a husband reclining in a surprise lounge chair during his wife’s infusion or a patient ringing the treatment bell after realizing the whole team, including Dr. Gupta, came out to witness it—are small, but they matter.

“That was one of my first weeks here,” Timm says of the bell-ringing. “He was hesitant at first. But when he saw Dr. Gupta walk out to see him do it, he smiled, stepped up, and rang it three times. Big, clear rings. He knew that moment mattered to all of us.” These gestures aren’t just nice. They build trust, especially in a region where healthcare access can be complex and confusing. 

That kind of trust is earned—through honest conversations, familiar faces, and, sometimes, a phone call answered by the doctor herself. “We don’t have layers and layers of separation here,” Dr. Gupta says. “We’re accessible. We’re human.”

And humanity, she says, is the whole point. “We’ve desensitized ourselves in so many ways,” she says. “Everyone’s on a screen. Everyone’s scheduled. We’ve forgotten how to just connect. I wanted this to feel like that old village doctor’s office, where someone could walk in and say, ‘Can you take a look at this?’ without being told to book an appointment for two weeks from now.”

Nature plays a role, too. The office looks out on a pond with ducks and birds. Dr. Gupta’s daughter brings duck food. “It sounds small,” Timm says, “but even seeing the natural light makes a difference. At my last job, there were no windows. None. Here, a squirrel runs by, or a bird lands outside, and you catch yourself smiling.”

Dr. Gupta remembers how the office space they originally planned on fell through—and how devastated she was. “But now? This is where we were supposed to be,” she says. “The sun comes right through those east-facing windows. Sometimes, I sit in the waiting room at the end of the day with a cup of coffee and just breathe it in.”

She remembered walking out to the waiting room, where a patient’s wife was reading quietly in that very room, sunlight pooling around her. “I thought, this is what I wanted. That you feel at home and carry that hope with you.”

Dr. Gupta, too, has hopes. “The science is amazing right now. Treatments have gotten so much better—especially for breast, colon, and lung cancers. But now we need to get that medicine to those who need it. Insurance and access are still big hurdles.” She wants more advocacy and better policy. “Science has done its part. It’s time for the system to catch up.”

In the meantime, she and her team do what they can, one patient at a time. “This work doesn’t drain me,” she says. “It fuels me.”

At home in Oxford, she recharges by walking, meditating, cooking, and reading in what she calls “the most beautiful park in the world.” Her daughter, nine years old, recently started leaving sticky notes in the office that read “Dr. Gupta, Jr.” A subtle nudge, perhaps.

“This isn’t just my dream,” Dr. Gupta says. “It’s Brianna’s. It’s Lindsey’s. It’s all of ours. And it’s still unfolding.”

Lotus Oncology and Hematology is located at 401 Purdy St., Suite 102, Easton, Maryland. 410-505-8948