You can’t imagine it, the singer states. At that moment readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored 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 cancer in her breast.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was intended as an open book, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with breast cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. She is sharp-witted, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I like entertaining. When performing I often tease the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have come back as malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a medical attire and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now looks like a odd shape.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with health crises. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Hey, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
