You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. There she was gearing up for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, actual name Jess Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was intended as an candid account, tackling every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, Living My Best Life, was released in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was planning an appearance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is familiar with health problems. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her youth, already beginning performing in the West End in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
