You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. At that moment readying for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The album, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while still secretly coping with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and oversized specs. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Cornish is fast-thinking, bold and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was getting ready for an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an test, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have come back as malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial 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 hate being put under. They walk you down. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now appears as a odd shape.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has often paired with moments of success for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the London theater in a musical (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 dizziness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I secured a deal, 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 lost my voice for a long period.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
