You can’t imagine it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jess Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicide) with characteristic openness. The lead track, No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Later next release, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” look. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, cream boots and oversized specs. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I often tease the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was planning an appearance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great 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 hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal recently and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. 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 hard period. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her youth, already beginning performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and teenage Jess has become part of the girl group the group while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Wow, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
