You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. There she was gearing up for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicide) with her usual frankness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time dealing with her cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and big frames. Think motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is quick, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after a long hiatus and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the West End in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
