You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. At that moment preparing for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, 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 breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every moment of pain she’d endured since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, gaslighting, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later next release, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in May and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while coping with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think rocker vibe meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. She is quick, irreverent and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her standup debut in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was planning an slot at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ 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 scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but then I just strolled down with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s used to health crises. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
