You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. There she was preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, on top of the world. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time living with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the film. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Jessie is fast-thinking, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her standup debut next year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after years away and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt 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 considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. During crises you go on a gurney, but then I just marched with a gown on and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal recently and my one side now appears as a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is familiar with health problems. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already making her debut performing in the West End in the production (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
