You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. At that moment gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, gaslighting, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, her single No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then next release, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time dealing with breast cancer. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with ornate white designs, cream boots and large glasses. Picture biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Jessie is quick, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut in the coming year. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d call on the Monday. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after years away and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great 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 considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but then I just strolled down with a gown on and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently 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 trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
