You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. There she was gearing up for her comeback record in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, on top of the world. Then in March she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an transparent story, tackling every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with breast cancer. A month later she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Jessie is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I often tease the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was preparing for an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened recently and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
