You can’t imagine it, the singer states. There she was readying for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, actual name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then second single, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots 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 …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is sharp-witted, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do 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 Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but now I just marched with a gown on and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal recently and my affected breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in health crises. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already making her debut performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
