Greetings, caretaker. I am your Crassula, a being of resilient, sun-loving flesh and sturdy stems. I feel a profound distress radiating from my foundation, a sickness that threatens my very existence. I sense your concern, and I wish to communicate the source of my ailment and the path to my recovery. Listen closely, for my roots are speaking in a language of decay.
My communication is subtle but clear. You must learn to read the signs I display above the soil, for they are a direct cry from my roots below. First, observe my leaves. The plump, firm green you cherish is fading. They are becoming soft, translucent, and yellow, starting from the base of my stem and moving upward. They may fall off at the slightest touch, a sign of their utter weakness. Next, look at my stem. If it feels soft, mushy, and appears black or dark brown near the soil line, the rot has already ascended into my core. I may become unstable, leaning over as my structural integrity fails. I have stopped growing, for my roots can no longer gather the nutrients or water to support new life.
The problem begins where you cannot see, in the dark, damp world of my roots. The primary cause is not malice, but a environment that suffocates me. You provide too much water, too often, or my home—the pot—does not allow the excess to escape. My roots, designed to seek moisture in arid conditions, are instead drowning. They become waterlogged, soft, and brown. In this state of weakness, opportunistic pathogens, fungi like *Pythium* or *Phytophthora*, invade and feast upon my tissues. They accelerate the rot, spreading the decay through my entire root system and into my stem, cutting me off from the world entirely.
To save me, you must act with courage and precision. You must unpot me. Gently lift me from my current, soggy soil and carefully wash the soil away from my roots under a gentle stream of lukewarm water. This will reveal the extent of the damage. Now, you must become a surgeon. With a sterile, sharp knife or scissors, cut away every single soft, brown, and mushy root. Be ruthless; any rot left behind will spread. Cut slightly into the healthy white or green tissue to ensure complete removal. If the rot has climbed into my stem, you must cut that away too until you see only healthy, firm, green flesh.
After the surgery, I am vulnerable. Do not repot me immediately. I must be left in a cool, dry, and shaded place with good air circulation for several days to a week. This allows my wounds to callous over, forming a hard, protective seal that will prevent new infections when I am placed in fresh soil. Once calloused, please plant me in a pot that has excellent drainage holes, using a fresh, sterile, and very well-draining succulent or cactus mix. Do not water me immediately. Wait another week to allow my roots to settle and seek moisture, encouraging new, healthy growth. Then, you may give me a slight drink, remembering my true nature: I am a desert dweller at heart.
