Not Easy

"Do you know what you were diagnosed with?" my grandmother asked me.
"A rare, untreatable disease," I answered. My mouth was dry, and I longed for a refreshing glass of
water.
"Disease. Can you tell me the root of that word?"
I wondered what my grandmother was getting at. "Ease."
"Yes. And the prefix?"
"Dis. What-"
"Listen." She squeezed my hand. "You know what each of those things mean. Add them together.
Not easy. That's all the word disease means. Not easy."
"How is that supposed to help me?"
"All you have to do is be willing to fight the battle."