You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. At that moment readying for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The album, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, broken romances, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while all the while living with the disease. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the film. “They used to call me that!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, bold and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her childhood, already making her debut starring in the stage in the production (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
