You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. There she was gearing up 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 ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name Jessica Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, miscarriage, broken romances, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Think rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. She is quick, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I often tease the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was planning an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an test, and they said, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but this time 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 fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy recently and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
She is familiar with health problems. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. They have often coincided with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to highlight not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has often paired with high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her youth, already starting her career starring in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band the group while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
