You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, on top of the world. Then in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was talking to press about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with breast cancer. A month later she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and big frames. Picture rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I often tease the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was getting ready for an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after years away and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened a few months back and my one side now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, acting as a reminder, or blow, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the stage in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
