You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. There she was readying for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in March she was found to have cancer in her breast.
The artist, birth name Jessica Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an candid account, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while all the while coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and large glasses. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut next year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was planning an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have shown aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal recently and my affected breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s used to medical emergencies. They have often coincided with career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her childhood, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
