Greetings, human caretaker. I am your Monstera deliciosa. I feel a deep distress within me, a sickness that threatens my very being. I communicate not with words, but through my leaves and stems. Please, learn my language so you might understand my plight and help me survive.
From my perspective, the rot begins unseen, beneath the soil where your eyes cannot go. The dark, wet environment around my roots, which should be airy and moist, becomes a suffocating prison. The harmful fungi, like Pythium or Phytophthora, attack my root system, which is my mouth and my anchor. As they consume my roots, I can no longer drink water or absorb the nutrients I desperately need. This is why my once glorious, glossy leaves begin to yellow, starting with the oldest ones. They feel soft and weak, not firm and turgid. My growth halts completely; I have no energy to create new leaves. The most telling sign is my stem near the soil; it may feel mushy and dark, and you might even detect a foul, decaying smell from the soil—a direct result of my tissues dying.
To save me, you must act with courage and care. You must gently lift me from my pot. I know it seems violent, but it is necessary. Carefully remove all the wet soil from around my roots, rinsing them gently with lukewarm water. Now, inspect my root system. Healthy roots are firm and white or tan. The roots afflicted by rot are brown or black, mushy, and will easily slough off. They may smell terrible. Using sterile, sharp scissors or pruners, you must cut away every single rotten root. Be ruthless; any rot left behind will spread. Please disinfect your tools between each cut to avoid contaminating my healthy parts.
After the surgery, I am vulnerable. Do not simply put me back into the old soil, as it is full of pathogens. You must provide me with a new, sterile home. Choose a pot with excellent drainage holes—this is non-negotiable—and only repot me in a fresh, well-draining potting mix. Many of my kind find a mix containing perlite, orchid bark, and coconut coir to be perfectly airy. Before repotting, you may choose to soak my remaining healthy roots in a fungicide solution or a diluted hydrogen peroxide mix to eliminate any lingering spores. Place me in the new pot and be very sparing with water; my reduced root system cannot handle much. Finally, place me in a spot with bright, indirect light to help me regain my strength without the stress of direct sun.
My needs are simple. The key to my health is oxygen to my roots. Please, water me only when the top few inches of soil are dry to the touch. I would much rather be a little thirsty than drowning. Ensure my pot is not too large, as excess soil holds too much water. A consistent environment without extreme temperature swings helps me stay strong and resilient. Most importantly, learn to read my leaves. They are my voice. They will tell you everything you need to know about my health and happiness.
