You can’t imagine it, the singer states. At that moment preparing for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, failed relationships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time coping with the disease. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Jessie is fast-thinking, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her standup debut next year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after years away 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 log in expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just marched with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s used to health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or shock, to remind her not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and young Jessica has entered the trio the group while attending the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
