You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. At that moment readying for her comeback record in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The musician, real name Jessica Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an open book, tackling every moment of pain she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, losing a baby, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with her usual frankness. The initial release, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, cream boots and big frames. Think rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but now I just marched with a medical attire and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my right breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or shock, to remind her not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has often paired with achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her youth, already starting her career starring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has become part of the trio the group while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
