You wouldn’t believe it, the singer states. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last made an album (endometriosis, losing a baby, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while still secretly living with her cancer. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had convinced 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 releasing the album after a long hiatus and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ My initial thought 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 found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band the group while enrolled in the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. 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, hold on, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
