You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. There she was readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, on top of the world. Then in March she was found to have cancer in her breast.
The musician, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly dealing with the disease. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the following my 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 she had assured herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. During crises you roll down in a bed, but now I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now looks like a odd shape.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
