You wouldn’t believe it, the singer states. At that moment readying for her new album launch 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 diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, birth name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later next release, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time living with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Picture motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was planning an slot at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following 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 she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer 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 contacted me 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 says, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ 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 fear going under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but now I just marched with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened four months ago and my affected breast now appears as a odd shape.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the stage 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 rapid pulse as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
