You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. At that moment readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The musician, real name Jess Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last made an album (endometriosis, miscarriage, broken romances, gaslighting, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, her single No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while all the while coping with the disease. A month later she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Picture rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an test, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have shown malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt 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 frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened recently and my affected breast now appears as a odd shape.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. They have often coincided with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her youth, already beginning performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and young Jessica has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
