The other day, someone who follows me on Twitter used the adjective “pushy” to describe my messages on the topic of mental heath and chronic digestive disease, specifically inflammatory bowel disease. I’m not going to out this person, because quite honestly I can’t remember his name. But I do remember where he works and what he does and let’s just say he’s not an outsider to the world of IBD medicine. At the time I laughed off the comment but as I reflect on the broader picture of my work and the work of my psychology colleagues and the patient advocates and anyone else attempting to bring some attention to the immense struggle that is life with IBD I’ve landed at a different emotion: anger. I started in what is now called the field of Psychogastroenterology in 2005. The year Weezer put out the song most of us Gen X types cringe at, “Beverly Hills.” Let that sink in. I’ve been in this space for 15 fucking years. I wrote my doctoral dissertation on stigma perceptions among patient
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