You can’t imagine it, Jessie J states. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with characteristic openness. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. A month later she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Jessie is fast-thinking, bold and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was serious she’d contact 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 a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have come back as malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a gown on and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened recently and my affected breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. They have often coincided with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or shock, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has often paired with high points for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her youth, already making her debut performing in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio the group while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
