You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, actual name Jessica Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, her single No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with the disease. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Think rocker vibe meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show in the coming year. “I like entertaining. On stage I basically roast the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an test, and they said, ‘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 replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after eight years without an album and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she observes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
