I've had IBS all my life, but I didn't get a name for it until I was shacked up with my now-husband. I did all sorts of silly crazy things (the all SF diet for IBS-C! freaking out about pumpernickel bagels!), but he's still with me. Not that he doesn't find my food restrictions annoying at times, but now that he has them too (diabetes), he knows my pain.
He's the cook, and he now knows how to IBS-up most of our meals (even if it's just giving me an extra slice of bread). When life gets stressful for me, he's the first one to suggest I do a hypno CD and make me up a mug of peppermint tea with acacia in it. He's been setting up a heating pad on my side of the bed each night so I can combat the evening bloats.
If you would be compassionate towards your partner's illness, he/she should be compassionate towards yours.