You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, on top of the world. Then in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with breast cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine rocker vibe 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. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. She is quick, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I basically roast the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was planning an appearance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have shown aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They lead you. During crises you are wheeled, but then I just marched with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now resembles a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her youth, already starting her career performing in the stage in the production (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
