You can’t imagine it, the singer states. At that moment readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an candid account, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with her cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Jessie is sharp-witted, unfiltered and blunt. 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 often tease the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; 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 wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but this time I just marched with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened a few months back and my affected breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! 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 ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her youth, already making her debut performing in the London theater in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has entered the female band the group while studying at the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. 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.”
Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
